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THE 


d|flnft§s(trs of O|ottnaitght; 


THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 


^ of our 


Ey M. L. 

AUTHOR OF GRACE MORTON, ETC. ^ 



PHILADELPHIA: 

PETER F. CUNNINGHAM, Catholic Bookseller, 
No. 21G South Third Street. 

1865. 

y 






i 


Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1865, by 
PETER F. CUNNINGHAM, 

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for 
the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 


Stereotyped by Theodore Brown, 605 Sansom street, Philadelphia. 


I 





PKEFACE. 


C=0=5 

The following story of Irisli evictions for 
conscience’ sake, is, unhappily, “ an o’er true 
tale.” The incidents on which it is founded, 
may thus be stated : 

Simultaneously with the great famine of 
1846, a scheme was inaugurated, as is well, 
known, nnder the auspices of certain societies 
in England, for the conversion of Ireland to 
Protestantism. It is needless to dwell on the 
history of that great evangelising project, 
which was to make conversions through dis- 
tributions of hibles, soup, and tracts to a 
starving people. As the famine spread, the 
movement spread with it, though not as ex- 
tensively as had been hoped by its fanatical 
originators. But as soon as the terrible pres- 
sure of the famine years passed away, bible- 
readers, soup-makers, and tract-distributors 
found their profitable occupation gone. The 
bubble had hurst, hut it was not permitted to 

(iii) 


IV 


PREFACE. 


fade into thin air. To this day the imposture 
is kept up, and thousands of deluded contribu- 
tors to the “ grandest missionary enterprise of 
the age,” confidently expect soon to hear of 
the conversion of the Irish en masse “ from the 
superstitions of Popery.” 

Among those engaged in “ the good work,” 
none has shown a more active or unscrupu- 
lous zeal than Lord Plunket, Protestant Bishop 
of Tuam, and Peer of the United Kingdom. 
His infiuence in Church and State, and his 
position as landlord of a great portion of the 
town of Partry and its vicinity, afibrd him 
many facilities for promoting the cause of 
evangelization, and these he has never failed 
to improve to the utmost. The tenantry for 
a time resisted ; but at length, intimidated by 
fear of the landlord, and harassed by the in- 
cessant importunities of his daughters, minis- 
ters, and agents, were compelled to send their 
children to the schools established by his Lord- 
ship, ostensibly for the education of the poor 
children, but really, as was afterwards acknow- 
ledged by some of his co-lahorers, for the 
purpose of teaching the scholars “the pure 
and simple religion of the gospel.” 


PREFACE. 


V 


Archbishop MacHale, the ‘^Lion of the 
West/’ beheld with sorrow the condition of 
this portion of his flock, and from among the 
ranks of the pious and learned clergy who so 
well second his arduous labors, he selected 
the Rev. Patrick Lavelle, as pre-eminently 
qualifled for the difficult and important mis- 
sion of Partry. The result proved the holy 
prelate’s sagacity. Father Lavelle, by his 
shining virtues, most of all by his active charity 
and solicitude for his flock, soon won their 
unlimited confldence and afiection, while he 
became the terror of the proselytisers by his 
boldness and energy in combating their various 
schemes. Insults and threats were in turn 
resorted to, but vain was every effort to drive 
him from the fleld, or force him to adopt a 
temporising policy. Entering wdth his whole 
soul into the cause of his tempted and sorely- 
tried parishioners, he labored incessantly, with 
that self-sacriflcing, apostolic spirit so charac- 
teristic of the Catholic priesthood, ‘‘to defend 
them against the snares of the enemy.” The 
blessing of Heaven crowned his efforts with 
success. Most of the famine-converts returned 


VI 


PREFACE. 


I 

to the fold ; the prosperity of the landlord’s 
schools declined, while the parish schools, 
established by Father Lavelle, flourished in a 
corresponding ratio. Finding his plans thus 
frustrated, Lord Plunket determined on vig- 
orous measures. His tenantry were informed, 
by means of printed papers, of his earnest 
desire that their children should attend the 
schools by h^ established ; while his daugh- 
ters, ministers and agents went from house to 
house, harassing the poor parents by their im- 
portunities, and terrifying them by significant 
threats of the fate they might expect, if re- 
fractory. Finally, notices to quit were served, 
and on the 21st, 22d, and 23d of November, 
1860, some three-score human beings were 
turned out of their homes in the midst of a 
violent storm of rain and sleet. One of the 
tenants, Johu Prendergast, was pardoned after 
being thus evicted, but in the following April 
was again evicted, with his wife and nine 
children, without a moment’s warning, to 
make way for one who had complied with his 
Lordship’s earnest desire.” 

Lord Plunket, on finding the public shocked 


PKEFACE. 


Vll 


by the cruelty of his proceedings, endeavored 
to justify himself, by laying various charges 
against the “ priest of Partry ’’ and the evicted 
tenants ; but these were triumphantly refuted. 
At the Galway assizes testimony was given 
sufficient to satisfy every unprejudiced mind 
that the proselytising school-system was the 
cause of the Partry evictions. John Prender- 
gast testified that, dreading the consequences 
of a refusal, he, for a time, consented to send 
some of his children to the schools ; but that, 
during that time, not a bit he eat did him 
any good; for he knew he was acting con- 
trary to his conscience and to God.” Ano- 
ther of the evicted tenants, Patrick Staunton, 
deposed on oath, that the bailiff* came and de- 
manded his children, on pain of eviction ; that 
he answered, ‘^he would not pay Lord Plunket 
two rents — his money and his conscience;” 
that he then got notice to quit, and was 
evicted. Other evidence was given to the 
same effect, which neither Lord Plunket nor 
any of his friends who were present, could 
gainsay; to which might be added the con- 
vincing fact, that only those tenants who re- 


PREFACE. 


viii 

fused to send their children to the landlord's 
schools were evicted. 

The story of the ‘‘Confessors of Connaught” 
is founded on the incidents connected with 
the several evictions. The authoress has in 
no instance exaggerated the shocking realities 
of this case of bigotry and misguided zeal. 
Her aim has been to pay a tribute, though but 
an humble one, to the apostolic spirit of the 
Irish priesthood, as exemplified in the indom- 
itable “Priest of Partry,’’ and to the heroic 
fidelity displayed in many touching instances 
by their persecuted, but ever-faithful people. 
The hand of the stranger and the proselytiser 
presses heavily on Ireland in this boasted age 
of religious freedom. Especially is it felt in 
the wild regions of Connaught, where num- 
bers of persecuted tenants have nobly earned 
the proud title bestowed on them by Arch- 
bishop MacHale, of “ the faithful and intrepid 
Confessors of Connaught. And prominent 
on the part of “faithful Erin” will always be 
cherished the memory of the tenants of the 
Protestant Bishop of Tuam. 


of ^onnattght: 


OR, THE 

TENANTS OF*A LORD BISHOP. 


CHAPTER I. 

The Festival of Corpus Christi. 

T was one of those perfect days which 
only June, the monarch of the year, with 
roses for his crown, bestows on the world, 
blending the dewy freshness of spring with 
summer’s rich glow and wealth of bloom. 
No lingering trace of winter’s rude ravages — no 
premonition of scorching heat in shrivelled leaf 
or withered flower— but all nature^ freshened by 
the spring rains and vivifled by the spring sun- 
beams, looking as fair, as pure as Eden may have 
looked to our first parents, ere the deadly blight 

( 7 ) 



8 THE CONFESSOBS OF CONNAUGHT; 

of sin fell upon the world, which the Creator’s 
voice had pronounced good. 

From the glowing west the sun threw a flood 
of golden light over the picturesque town of 
Bartrymore, nestled among the wild hills of 
Connaught, shaded by remnants of once magni- 
ficent woods, and watered by gurgling springs 
leaping cascades, and tiny streamlets, now flash- 
ing out like skeins of silver ” among the green 
fields, now hiding coyly away amid rocks and 
trees. It was a week-day, yet all sounds of labor 
were hushed. The grain fields, rich with luxu- 
rious promise, were deserted; the patient com- 
panions of the husbandman’s toil roamed in 
freedom through the commons and pastures. 
No children loitered through the streets; no 
shop was open, and, save for a solitary form now 
and then appearing at a door or window, the 
place would have seemed uninhabited. At one 
sacred spot — one central point of interest — had 
the inhabitants of Bartrymore, of all ages and 
conditions, assembled. 

On a commanding site, overlooking a wide ex- 
panse of hill and dale, stood a handsome gothic 
Church, whose gilded cross pointing the beholder 
to the bright heaven above, proclaimed it of the 
Ancient Faith of Erin — the Faith, proscribed. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 9 

persecuted, trampled on for centuries, yet still 
unharmed, triumphant; coming forth more beau- 
tiful and more glorious from every conflict with 
^nhe powers of hell;^^ looking up ever with un- 
wavering confidence to its divine Founder, whose 
gracious promise — Lo, I am with you all days 
even to the consummation of the world gleams 
out in letters of living light through the darkness 
of successive ages of persecution. Through the 
open windows of the sacred edifice came the rich 
tones of the organ, blending with human voices 
chanting the beautiful Yesper service. Anon, a 
loftier strain, a swell of heavenly music broke 
forth, as the organ was tuned to one of those 
sublime compositions which angelic ministers 
must have wafted from heaven's own choirs into 
the souls of the old masters. And as the ra- 
vishing harmony arose louder and more exult- 
ingly, a procession issued from the spacious 
portal. The sacred emblem of Christianity led 
the van ; next came the white surpliced boys of 
the sanctuary, surrounding a golden-fringed ca- 
nopy, beneath which walked the anointed priest 
of God, clad in gorgeous robes, and reverently 
bearing the mysterious Host, before whom angels 
and men bow in adoring love. Then followed a 
long line of children of both sexes, neatly attired, 
and bearing baskets, wreaths, and bouquets of 


10 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

June^s fair blossoms. Passing under a triumphal 
arch of evergreens tastefully intertwined with 
dowers, the procession wound slowly around the 
church-yard, among billows of crimson and white 
clover blossoms which, rippled by the sweet 
south wind, sent forth a fresh aroma, mingling 
with the fragrant incense that rose with every 
swing of the silver thurible. While the sweet, 
artless voices of the children chaunted the thrill- 
ing strains of the Lauda Sion,^^ and the birds 
from their leafy bowers warbled their blithest 
lays, as if they, too, delighted to celebrate the 
joyous festival of Corpus Christi. 

It was a beautiful sight as the little procession 
with perfect order and decorum moved onward; 
sometimes in the shadow of overhanging trees, 
and again in the mellowed brightness of the 
slanting sunbeams. But ravishing was the spec- 
tacle presented when, having re-entered the 
church, it passed slowly around, among crowds 
of prostrate worshippers, and up the middle aisle 
to the sanctuary, which, with its profusion of 
evergreens, flowers and lighted tapers, was like 
some fairy scene. The priest having reverently 
placed the Holy Sacrament on the altar descended 
the steps, and bowed in humble adoration, and 
then, while fresh clouds of incense curled grace- 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 11 


fully around the Monstrance, and the choir 
chanted the beautiful Pange Lingua/^ the child- 
ren, kneeling before the Sacred Host, presented 
their floral offering, the pure, fragrant treasures, 
lovingly gathered from garden, field and forest, 
which were arranged on steps erected for the 
purpose on each side of the altar. At that in- 
stant the sun sent a shower of golden arrows 
through the western windows, lighting up with 
dazzling splendor the altar, now a vast pyramid 
of flowers and lights. The ravishing notes of 
the Tantum ergo,'^ rose on the perfumed air, 
alternately swelling into exultant strains, and 
dying away in tremulous melody, the priest 
chanted in full, rich tones, the prayer of the 
Blessed Sacrament, and a fresh* cloud of incense 
mingled with a radiant atmosphere.. And then 
followed that interval of impressive silence, bro- 
ken only by the faint tinkle of the bell, when 
every head bent to receive the Benediction^^ of 
that God whose delight is to be with the chil- 
dren of men.^^ Oh ! hallowed moment, replete 
with pure, soul-thrilling blessedness! when, to 
the spirit still encompassed by earthly bonds, is 
granted a participation in the happiness of heaven, 
and the heart throbs and glows with an ecslacy 
of bliss — a sweet fullness of rapture, never felt 


12 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

on earth, save in presence of the Hidden God 
who sweetly recompenses the sacrifice of reason 
to faith. 

Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet 
have believed 

Among the crowd that filled the sacred edifice 
was one whose knee bent not in adoration, whose 
head bowed not in loving homage. From a favor- 
able position in the gallery he had watched every 
ceremony with lively interest, his attention di- 
vided between the ofiiciating priest and the de- 
vout congregation. When all was over he still 
lingered, scanning the countenances of those 
around him, as if to mark the effect produced by 
the impressive service just concluded; and when 
he at length left the gallery, it was only to con^ 
tinue his earnest scrutiny of the dispersing mul- 
titude in the church yard. He was noticed by 
many, and significant glances and whispers were 
exchanged after they had passed. Evidently he 
was known to all there, although no one seemed 
to recognize him except by an occasional touch 
of the hat or curtsey, that indicated more dis- 
trust than respect. 

While he still lingered thus the pastor emerged 
from the sacristy. If the stranger had thought 
his appearance at the altar peculiarly noble and 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 13 

imposing, no less prepossessing was he now, when, 
having exchanged his gorgeous sacerdotal robes 
for the plain black cassock, he made his way 
slowly between the various groups, a smile of 
peculiar sweetness lighting up his fine features, 
as he passed on, with a friendly nod to one and 
a kind inquiry to another, while all regarded him 
with alfectionate pride, that showed how closely 
knit were the hearts of the pastor and his flock. 

On seeing the gentlemanly-looking stranger, he 
approached him with a courteous salutation, 
which was as promptly returned, and, holding 
out his hand, said, in a friendly way, I believe 
I have the pleasure of seeing the Eev. Mr. Gill- 
man ? I bid you welcome to Bartrymore, sir; 
not that Protestant clergymen are very welcome 
to Ireland, as a general thing, he added, plea- 
santly. 

But that you make an exception in ray favor,^^ 
said the stranger, delighted with the cordial 
manner of his new acquaintance, I esteem it 
no trifling compliment to be welcomed to Ireland 
by the Rev. Father Dillon.^^ 

And the two gentlemen, linking arms as if 
they were old friends, wandered about the church 
yard and to the brow of the hill on which it 
stood ; falling into the easy chat naturally sug- 


14 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


gested by scenes which had long been familiar to 
one; while to the other they had all the charms of 
jiovelty united to their other attractions. The 
priest's house adjoined the church; a plain, un- 
pretending abode, little better than most of the 
surrounding cottages, but beautiful from its situ- 
ation, and from the neat, orderly appearance of 
the flower-garden, which, though small in extent, 
presented a great variety of native plants and 
shrubs, tastefully arranged and evidently culti- 
vated with care. 

It aifords me an hour’s exercise and amuse- 
ment oecasionally,” said Father Dillon, in answer 
to a remark from his companion ; but just now 
its appearance is not very gay.’^ 

It has yielded its blooming treasures for your 
church decoration,” said Mr. Gillman; really 
that floral display took me by surprise. The great 
profusion of flowers,, and the taste displayed in ar- 
ranging them, seem marvelous in a small country 
town like this. I presume every little garden in 
the neighborhood was rifled of its sweets.” 

“ Most of them are cared for with a particular 
view to this and similar occasions. And our 
young folks took long rambles in search of wild 
flowers; every nook for miles around, I imagine 
was explored.” 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 15 

If they had come to the parsonage, my wife 
would have been glad to add to their pretty col- 
lection,’^ said Mr. Gillman, as he took a seat in 
the simply furnished parlor. ^^May I ask the 
nature of the festival you celebrate with so much 
care? A holiday of some importance, I judged, 
from seeing the total suspension of every-day 
labors.” 

You were right. The feast of Corpus Christ! 
is a holiday of obligation, and one of the most 
glorious festivals of the Church. It was insti- 
tuted by Pope Urban IV., in the thirteenth cen- 
tury, and its office, which is very beautiful, was 
composed by St. Thomas Aquinas. The General 
Council of Vienna confirmed it in 1311, as a 
public protestation of Catholic Faith in the Eeal 
Presence of the Body and Blood of Christ in the 
Holy Sacrament of the altar; and in refutation 
of the heresy of Berengarius, who was the first 
to call in question a doctrine which had been 
held since the apostolic age, not only by the Ca- 
tholic Church, but by every society which went 
out from her fold. It is true that St. Irenseus 
speaks of some in the third century who ^denied 
the Eucharist to be that very flesh which was 
given for the life of the world but their denial 
was not so much of the Eeal Presence, as of 


16 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Christ’s corporal nature which they refused to 
believe. In thanksgiving for the wondrous gift, 
as well as in reparation for the many indignities 
offered to this Mystery of Love, the festival is 
annually celebrated throughout the Church on 
the Thursday^ after Trinity Sunday, with all the 
splendor and solemnity that she can command.” 

This afternoon’s ceremony was very fine,” 
said Mr. Gillman. No one could fail to be im- 
pressed with its exquisite beauty. I no longer 
wonder at the glowing descriptions I now re- 
member to have read of Corpus Christi proces- 
sions on the Continent.” 

^^Ah, but those processions, my dear sir ! you 
cannot form an idea of them from our humble 
celebration. In Catholic countries where the 
highest dignataries of the State feel that they 
are honored in having a place in the procession, 
which, with all the pomp of banners, music, and 
military escort, moves in countless numbers 
through streets gaily decorated in honor of the 
feast, and among crowds who, with fervent devo- 
tion that strikes the most careless observer, pros- 
trate themselves before the Lord of Hosts — a 
view of one of those processions is something to 
be remembered forever. Poor Ireland can no 
longer present one of those thrilling spectacles. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP, 17 

All that ardent faith and loving zeal can accom- 
plish, under adverse circumstances, she offers to 
her God veiled under the sacramental species. 
But how poor are her celebrations now contrasted 
with those of former times, how insignificant in 
view of the sublime mystery that they are in- 
tended to honor/^ 

Yet the widow’s mite was more valued than 
the rich man’s crown,” said the visitor, touched by 
the mournful expression of the father’s thought- 
beaming eye. 

True : and, therefore, our poor land, widowed 
and impoverished as she is, gives her all, little 
though it be; humbly hoping that it will be as 
acceptable as the gorgeous solemn worship she 
offered in better times, and which more fortunate 
nations are offering to-day. But, let us quit a 
subject which would inevitably lead to a contro- 
versial discussion,” said the father in a lighter 
tone, and looking at his watch he continued, 
laughingly, “ Now, I am going to invite you to 
take tea with me, not at my own house, but at 
my next neighbor’s. Nay, never think of refus- 
ing — we Irish have queer ways of doing things, 
you know. I have promised to take tea with 
this lady — Mrs. Brown is her name — and I will 
be just twice as welcome if I take a friend along. 


18 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

And here comes one of her children to remind 
me of the time : — Yes, my dear, Til be there im- 
mediately. Come, my dear sir, I promise you 
beforehand a delicious little supper, and a warm 
welcome from a pleasant hostess ; and, if you 
need further inducement, you will find there the 
young lady — and a very charming one she is — 
to whose taste is due the floral display which so 
much pleased you/' 

And so the English Protestant curate was con- 
ducted, nolens volenSy to the next house, and duly 
presented to Mrs. Brown and to Miss Margaret 
Lynch, the ^‘charming young lady," who was, 
in truth, a fair specimen of Erin’s beautiful, be- 
witching daughters; and presently he found him- 
self seated at the tea-table, despite his half seri- 
ous, half laughing remonstrances. 

‘‘ 'Tis against all etiquette, I know," said Fa- 
ther Dillon, merrily, but the fault is mine, not 
yours, and don't shame me by keeping up the 
remembrance of it. Mrs. Brown would never 
forgive me if I disappointed her." 

You're right enough there. Father," put in 
the pleasant hostess. 

And how could I do justice to her good fare, 
after churlishly hurrying away from a friend in 
order to enjoy it? Now you are in Ireland, you 
must do as the Irish do, my good sir." 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 19 

all the duties of my new citizenship prove 
as pleasant as the first, there is little danger of 
my proving rebellious, said the curate, who 
heartily enjoyed the delicious little suppeiV^ at 
which he was so unexpectedly a guest, and fully 
appreciated the pleasant companionship to which 
he was admitted under circumstances that made 
him feel entirely at home. 

There was no lack of conversation ; each of the 
four tongues present did its full duty, and was 
equally ready for lively chat or serious discourse, 
as occasion offered. The curate was incidentally 
enlightened on various points which would be 
useful for him to remember during his ministry 
among the Irish.^’ He learned, also, to his sur- 
prise, that his bishop. Lord Woolcut, resided on 
a fine estate in the vicinity of Bartrymore, and 
not at the cathedral town of , as he had ima- 

gined, and that Lord Woolcut and his son, the 
rector of the cathedral, spent most of their time 
in Dublin, with occasional trips to the sister 
isle.^^ 

have not yet seen Lord Woolcut,^^ said the 
curate, and must own to feeling somewhat anx- 
ious to know what manner of man he is. In 
England he is esteemed very highly; I know not 
what reputation he bears in his own country. 


20 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Mrs. Gillman has conceived quite a prejudice 
against him, from the tenor of his brief corre- 
spondence. She thinks him haughty, dogmatic, 
self-sufficient, and so on.^^ An involuntary smile 
from the priest, and the two ladies caused him to 
add, in a tone of inquiry, hope her precon- 
ceived opinion is not a correct one.^^ 

My opinion of his lordship might be deemed 
not quite impartial, said the priest, assuming 
great seriousness, ^‘so I must decline giving it* 
though ^prudent silence is a virtue which I do not 
often get credit for.^^ 

Nor can you have credit for it now, Father,^^ 
roguishly exclaimed Mrs. Brown, ‘^for I leave 
it to all here if Mr. Gillman has not got a suffi* 
cient answer to his question.^^ 

It is certainly very easy to ‘ draw an infer- 
ence,' even without the aid of the countryman's 
strong team," replied the curate. 

I protest against one being drawn from my 
innocent remark," replied Father Dillon. In 
general I believe a lady's instinct may be relied 
on — let me finish; you have not caught me yet — 
this rule, like all others, is subject to exceptions, 
and every one must decide the exceptional cases 
for himself. There are subjects on which I am 
strictly non-committal." 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 21 

O, Father Dillon, your non-committalism is 
very intelligible said Miss Lynch. Is it not, 
Mr. Gillman 

^‘Very; and I am sure my wife would con- 
sider it altogether impartial and convincing.^^ 

The conversation changed to the subject of 
education, and the curate found that Mrs. Brown 
and her cousin had charge of the schools con- 
nected with Father Dillon’s church, which af- 
forded him an opportunity of paying those ladies 
a well deserved compliment on the deportment 
of their pupils during the impressive ceremonies 
of the afternoon. Thus in pleasant chat the time 
slipped by, and the faint young moon threw her 
silvery rays across the cottage garden ere Mr. 
Gillman thought of taking leave. 

It was a delightful evening. The sky was of 
the clearest blue, save where a mass of rosy 
clouds shot with gold, marked the path of the 
declining sun. Sunset, moonlight and starlight 
all combined to shed a luminous radiance, almost 
too fair for earth, over the hills and dales of Bar- 
trymore. From hawthorn hedge and clover field 
was wafted an almost overpowering fragrance, 
steeping the senses in luxurious delight. The 
insect world was on the wing, filling the balmy 
air with the homely sounds that are so pleasant 


22 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

on a summer night; the sonorous hum of the bee — 
the flutter of the moth’s bright wings as they 
dashed among flowers and shrubs — the piping of 
quails from the cornfields — the croaking of frogs 
from the marshes — all blent pleasantly enough 
with the rich voice of the cuckoo — the merry 
song of the distant waterfall — the gleeful tones 
of children at play in their door-yards. 

Mr. Gillman paused at Mrs. Brown’s door, to 
admire with the others the heavenly beauty of 
the hour, laughingly saying that he believed he 
had scarcely expected to enjoy an evening so dry 
and balmy in a land that had acquired a reputa- 
tion for continual rains and excessive moisture. 

Eendering it only fit for cattle raising,” added 
Father Dillon : You remember the aneedote of 
Dean Swift, when, on hearing an English lady 
remark that the air of Ireland was remarkably 
salubrious, he fell on his knees and besought her 
not to say so in England, or they would certainly 
tax it. Unfortunately his advice to keep ^mum’ 
on that point, was never heeded; so the air of 
Ireland, if not subject to taxation, pays the 
penalty for its provoking salubrity in being art- 
fully slandered.” 

^‘Your reverence has taken quite a fancy to 
the new curate,” said Mrs. Brown, when Mr. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 23 

Gillman had taken leave of his three entertainers, 
with warmly expressed wishes on both sides that 
the acquaintance thus begun might ripen with 
lasting friendship. 

I have indeed/^ was the reply. I consider 
him an upright, conscientious, honorable gen- 
tleman, and have no fear that he will pursue 
those proselytizing practices of which Bartry- 
more has lately been the theatre.^' 

I am afraid he will not be here long,^^ said 
Miss Lynch. 

^^You think he will weary of his small flock 
^^Not so soon, perhaps, as his lord bishop will 
weary of him.^^ 

There is danger of said the Father re- 

flectively. ^‘I should be sorry to see him dis- 
missed from his new charge.^^ 




CHAPTER II. 


The Parsonage and its Inmates. 



ACK from the main street of Bar- 
[ try more, shaded by a double row of 
! patriarchal trees, stood the Protest- 
I ant church, as it was mostly desig- 
nated, its original appellation of St. 
Bridget's Chaj)er' savoring too much 
of the old religion to please those 
who, in the early times of Ireland's conversion 
from Popery," had become its proprietors, under 
the standard rule that might makes right.'’ A 
picturesque edifice, half shrouded in ivy, its quaint 
architecture and venerable aspect telling of the 
olden times — its only modern appendage being a 
bright weather-cock, (meet emblem of the Re- 
formers’ changeable creed,) which, having sup- 
planted the time-honored symbol of Christianity, 
now glittered from the graceful, tapering spire 
that peeped out from among the clustering trees. 

Scarcely a stone's throw distant, in the midst 
of a garden that was one profuse tangle of roses, 
( 24 ) 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 25 

lilacs aud sweet brier, nestled the parsonage — a 
snug, old-fashioned building, with small, lattieed 
windows, and a wooden porch, overhung with 
honeysuekle and jasmine. The whole place had 
a comfortable home look, quite cheering to the 
new curate, whose prospects had been very 
gloomy since his unceremonious dismissal from 
his charge in England, to make way for a new 
favorite of the dean’s. 

The Eev. Walter Gillman was not what is 
called an eloquent preacher; neither could he 
enact tbue part of a mountebank, to make him- 
self popular, or draw a congregation by advancing 
startling ‘^theories” spiced with just a little 
touch of profanity or infidelity. He was simply 
what Father Dillon, with his quick insight into 
character, had read, a sincere, earnest, conscien- 
tious man, devotedly attached to the religion 
which he believed to be the true one, and strict 
in the performance of his duties as one of its 
ministers. But the time for such has gone by. 
What congregation can submit to the bore of an 
old^ashioned, plain-spoken, faithful clergyman, 
in this era of progress and sensation ? Mr. Gill- 
man had neither the desire nor the power to 
improve” himself according to the popular 
standard, and he was also without influential 


26 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

connections, so that his chances of a call, in these 
days of brisk competition, were decidedly few. 
After a period of anxious suspense, he reluctantly 
followed the advice of his practical wife, and ad- 
vertised. This advertisement meeting the eye 
of Lord Woolcut, procured him the curacy of 
Bartrymore. The salary of seventy-five pounds 
per annum was rather small for the support of a 
wife and four olive branches,^^ but the parson- 
age, with a good bit of ground attached, was 
rent free, and, as nothing better was likely to 
offer, the parson concluded to accept it, an ad- 
ditional inducement being that a teacher was 
wanted for the female school belonging to the 
church, and that Mrs. G-illman’s sister was both 
competent and willing to fill that post. 

Friends in England learned of their intended 
removal with dismay, and contrived to work 
upon the fears of Mrs. Gillman with so many 
terrible ‘‘instances of the wild, revengeful tem- 
per of the West,^^ that she secretly regretted an 
undertaking which now seemed a rather despe- 
rate adventure. But she was not one to put her 
hand to the plough and look back ; she would 
go through with it, let the danger be what it 
might. And, as she told her sister while they 
were busily preparing for removal, she would not 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 2T 

shrink from accompanying her husband where- 
ever he thought his duty called him, if it was 
even on a missionary expedition to the South 
Sea Islands. 

Clara Hudson laughingly answered, that ^^it 
was lucky his views of duty did not carry him 
so far; it was just as well to stop within the 
bounds of civilization, and, though the wild Irish 
^ of the wesV might be demi-savages, there was 
no danger that they would take a fancy to serve 
up little Benny as a dainty roast.^^ And as she 
spoke she pressed warm kisses on the dimpled 
cheeks and fat white shoulders of the baby, whom 
the mother had snatched up in a vague feeling 
of alarm. Never fear, Em,^^ said she, with a 
merry burst of laughter, ^^your husband^s new 
parishioners are not the cannibals of the South 
Sea.^^ 

<^No, of course not,'^ said Mrs. Gillman half 
ashamed, but then, Clara, there were dreadful 
things done in Ireland during the famine a few 
years ago. It was even said that mothers ate 
their own children — a thing I never could credit, 
though Lady Edwy assured me the other day 
that it was true; and that, as well as she could 
remember, it was in ‘ the far west' that such bar- 
barous deeds wers committed. She thinks it 


28 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

dreadful to live in the midst of such people ; 
though* she did not recollect hearing that such 
barbarities had occurred in Bartrymore/' 

The barbarity/^ said Clara, warmly, was on 
the part of those who, while surrounded by every 
luxury, could suffer their fellow* beings to be re- 
duced to such extremities. We, English people, 
should blush to think of that famine, Emily 
^^Tes, it was very dreadful. I am glad to re- 
member that Walter did what he could, and got 
maney of his congregation to contribute liberally 
towards the relief of the suffering people. But, 
do you know, Clara, that I think the Dean was 
never so friendly with him since ? However, he 
did but his duty as a Christian, and if others 
did'nt like the contrast between his humanity 
and their want of it, the fault was not his. 
There, I think that china will go safe now — I 
would^nt have it broken on any account.^^ 

Mrs. Gillman was naturally a shy, timid woman, 
easily alarmed : strong only in her affections, and 
in the tenacity with which she clung to what she 
deemed right, and abhorred what she deemed 
wrong. It was not wonderful, then, that the 
tales of famine, horrors and agrarian outrages, 
her kind friends related for her encouragement, 
should make some impression on her mind, and 


OR, TUB TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 29 

dispose her to regard the new sphere of duty as 
a very trying, if not dangerous, one. But her 
natural good sense soon regained its supremacy, 
and by the time her journey ended, she had 
almost forgotten her silly fears, and was quite 
ready to make the best of everything, according 
to her usual habit. She was charmed with the 
beauty of her new parish, delighted with the 
picturesque church, and well pleased^with the 
simple, honest, good natured peasantry so dif- 
ferent from the savages — half civilized, but alto- 
gether lawless — whom her friends had described. 
The parsonage, to be sure, was not equal either 
in size or conveniences to that which she had 
inhabited since her marriage. But, if the rooms 
were small, there were plenty of them; and when 
carpets had Been laid down and curtains hung 
up, the furniture, which had luckily escaped in- 
jury, arranged in proper style, and household 
affairs moving in the old system of order and re- 
gularity with which the neat servant she had 
brought from home was so well acquainted — the 
good lady set herself down in her new abode 
with a quite at-home feeling she had not dreamed 
of enjoying. 

The new curate was not so well satisfied, for 
he already began to have misgivings as to the 


30 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

success of his mission in Ireland. His congrega- 
tion was so inconsiderable as scarcely to deserve 
the name, and he saw no probability of enlarging 
it by conversions. For Bartrymore was not like 
a town in his own country, with dissenters, un- 
believers, and persons calling themselves Chris- 
tians, yet attached to no particular Church. 
Here, save the few Protestant families composing 
his flock, the jDeople were all Catholics, and the 
imposing ceremonies of Corpus Christi, the evi- 
dent fervor of the congregation, and devotedness 
of their pastor, allowed him little hope of making 
converts among them. 

As he walked homeward from Mrs. Brown’s 
his mind was disturbed by this and similar reflec- 
tions. It had not escaped his notice that he was 
regarded with suspicious distrust by the people 
generally — a feeling sufliciently accounted for by 
the accounts he had already received of his pre- 
decessor's bigotry and intolerance. This, of 
course, made his own position more difficult. 
And the thought of the Lord Bishop added to 
his uneasiness. His English bishop, whom he 
had seldom seen during all his ministry, was re- 
markable for an easy, careless disposition, not 
troubling himself or his subordinates by an ex- 
cess of zeal. Mr. Gillman, faithful and exact in 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 31 

the discharge of his duties, had sometimes wished 
that his bishop was a little more interested in the 
cause of religion. Henceforth he would not have 
occasion to indulge that wish. Lord Woolcut 
evidently inclined to the other extreme, and 
would probably be exacting to an unpleasant de- 
gree. Altogether, his situation promised to be a 
trying one. 

On reaching the parsonage he found his wife 
and sister-in-law enjoying the beauty of the even- 
ing in the vine wreathed porch, and chatting with 
the sexton and his son, (who was teacher of the 
boys’ school,) while the children played merrily 
in the old-fashioned garden. It was a pretty do- 
mestic scene, and, tranquilized by its influence, 
Mr. Gillman gave an animated account of the 
manner in which he had spent the afternoon. 
The ladies joined in his wish that they had been 
with him, but Mrs. Gillman added that she would 
be rather shy in going to a Catholic church, as 
ministers' wives were subject to so much criti- 
cism ; her curiosity might be thought unsuitable 
by some of her husband's parishioners. The two 
Egans agreed with her, and it was plain they 
thought their parson's curiosity unsuitable. He 
was conscious of this, but merely remarked that 
he was sorr}" he had not gone in the morning, 


32 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

as]ie fancied the priest was an eloquent preacher, 
but that he would take advantage of some other 
holiday to hear him. He then spoke of the two 
ladies who had promised to call soon at the par- 
sonage, and expressed his conviction that they 
would be very agreeable acquaintances. 

Mrs. Gillman, who had been used to a large 
circle of friends, and had not yet seen any one 
in Bartrymore whom she was willing to consider 
in that light, was much interested, and applied 
to the sexton to know ^‘who they were^^ — a 
question satisfactorily answered. 

Mrs. Brown was the widow of a gentleman 
who had held some important office in Dublin — 
Mr. Egan could not remember exactly what it 
was. The widow, finding her income insufficient 
to support her in the manner to which she had 
been accustomed, removed to Bartrymore with 
her two children, then mere babes, and took up 
her abode with her uncle. Dr. Lynch, who was a 
widower with one daughter, at that time absent 
at a Convent school. Soon after Miss Margaret 
had finished her education and returned home, 
the Doctor died, leaving her a sufficient annuity. 
It had always been her intention to become a 
sister or a nun, Mr. Egan did not exactly know 
which; but the priest persuaded her to remain 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 83 

awhile in Bartrymore, and assist her cousin in a 
school she had lately established. The priest, 
Mr. Egan had heard, intended to have good 
schools under the charge of some religious orders 
as soon as his means would allow : meantime as 
a work of charity, the two ladies taught the poor 
children of St. Patrick's gratuitously. They were 
also very good to the poor, and were thought 
everything of in Bartrymore — the sexton some- 
what grudgingly added. 

Mrs. Gillman was quite willing, after this ac- 
count, to make the acquaintance of the Catholic 
ladies. Just now her mind was taken up with 
an invitation herself and husband had received 
to v'lsit the lord bishop the next day. His lord- 
ship would send a carriage to convey them to 
the Episcopal Palace;’^ a very kind attention 
on the part of Lord Woolcut, of whom she was 
now disposed to form a more favorable opinion, 
while speculating as to what kind of a place he 
he had, ^^Hot so fine as Lord Edwy^s, of course.^’ 

^^Much finer, from what I have heard,^^ said 
the curate. 

Mrs. Gillman smiled incredulously : she could 
not believe that any place in Ireland was equal, 
much less superior, to Lord Edwy’s domain. 


CHAPTER III. 



A Visit to tho “ Episcopal Palace.*^ 


^ HE Epi8C0j)al Palace was built 
i against a mountain slope, com- 
'manding a full and extensive view 
of scenery that would have driven 
an artist wild with the vain ambh 
tion of transferring it, ii;i its own 
matchless coloring, to canvass. The broad, 
island-dotted Lough Carrib, now sparkling in 
the sunlight, now darkening with the shadows 
cast by the sunlit hills of lar Connaught — the 
fine oak woods towering aloft in regal grandeur — 
the bold outlines of Croagh Patrick, here lighted 
by a golden ray, and there veiled by a fleeting 
cloud — the ruins of an ancient abbey, over whose 
desolation nature had kindly woven a veil of 
moss and ivy — each put forth its peculiar claim 
to the spectator’s admiration, and all combined 
to form a landseape of such wild, picturesque 
beauty as only ^nhe West'’ could boast. 

( 34 ) 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BI3HOP. 35 

The home of the Protestant Bishop was well 
worthy its surroundings. The lofty, turreted 
building which formed the central portion, was 
a splendid specimen of the elaborate architecture 
of former ages ; the wings, of modern construc- 
tion, had been built so as to harmonize with the 
massive strength and dusky magnificence of the 
original building. From the castellated front a 
lawn of the richest sward, ornamented with 
clumps of shade trees and blooming shrubs, fell 
away with a long, gentle slope ; bounded on one 
side by a magnificent park stretching away for 
miles until lost in the distant woods; on the 
other by a succession of terraced gardens, with 
fish ponds, gothic arbors and glittering conser- 
vatories. With its thousands of broad acres, 
taking in a good part of the picturesque town of 
Bartrymore, and the village that lay behind the 
piled up hills forming the boundary of the garden, 
a princely estate was this of Lord Woolcut, 

Bishop of and Peer of the Eealm.^^ Truly 

if his sacerdotal office was but a shadow — a 
mockery — its accompaniments were splendid re- 
alities. 

Indescribable was the amazement of the par- 
son^s wife as the carriage containing herself and 
husband wound slowly through the park; at 


36 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

times descending into a deep glade whose twilight 
gloom was vocal with the songs of the thrush 
and the blackbird^ and fragrant with the breath 
of the sweet brier; again emerging from the 
shade, and winding up a pleasant height, where, 
through the foliage of wide-spreading beeches 
and lordly oaks she caught occasional glimpses 
of the glorious scenery around. 

^^Who would ever dream of such a place in 
Ireland she exclaimed frequently, in a low 
tone, as if a loud word would have been a dese- 
cration of the place. Why, Walter, Lord Ed- 
wy's place is nothing to it 

But when the stately palace came into full 
view her exclamations ceased ; wonder and ad- 
miration were too deep for words. She could 
only gaze with a sort of incredulous rapture, that 
was soon disturbed by a feeling of nervous dread. 
How could she face the owners of all that gran- 
deur? If, yesterday, the honor of a visit to 
‘<the Lord Bishop had seemed almost over- 
powering, to-day it was quite so. How she 
longed to be once more ensconced in her humble 
homo ! Had they been on foot she would have 
resolutely turned homeward, leaving Walter to 
make such excuses as he might for her absence; 
but this was prevented by her being in the bish- 


OR, THE TENANTS OE A LORD BISHOP. 37 

op’s carriage; how hateful it was to her now! 
There was nothing for her but to go through the 
dreadful ordeal, so the little woman, with a 
shrinking dread such as not all the tales of the 
wild Irish had excited, resigned herself to her 
fate. Her husband vainly tried to re-assure her. 
His cheerful remarks were only answered by a 
look or slight motion of the head. 

As they entered the great hall her heart gave 
a sudden bound, then sank like lead, leaving her 
pale, nerveless, ready to faint. Mechanically she 
followed the liveried servant into a room, where, 
in some way, she knew not how, she went through 
the ceremony of introduction to Lord Wool cut 
and his daughter. The sound of rushing waters 
was in her ears, and a mist obscured her sight, 
as she sank into a seat beside the window, re- 
plying in a husky tone to the polite observations 
of the Hon. Miss Woolcut. Presently, to her 
great relief, the latter turned her attention to 
the conversation going on between her father 
and the new parson ; when, revived by the cool 
gushes of air that fanned her throbbing temples, 
Mrs. Gillman took courage to look around, re- 
membering that Clara woitld be sure to ask for 
a description of the room. To her simple mind 
its magnificence could scarcely be surpassed, 


38 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

even at Windsor Castle, yet it was one of the 
plainest apartments in the house, being the one 
in which those visiters were received whom it 
was desirable to place on a half familiar footing. 
It was situated in one of the wings, and had bay 
windows looking into the beautiful garden, with 
its back ground of hills. The paneling of dark 
oak, lighted up by several fine paintings; the 
carpet, soft and thick as wood-moss ; tables and 
cabinets of precious woods, rich with carving; 
chairs and sofas luxuriously cushioned; there 
was enough to engage Mrs. Gillman^s attention 
for hours, without taking into account a partial 
view of the library adjoining, with its rich hang- 
ings and book-cases of elaborate workmanship. 
At length her eyes turned curiously on the own- 
ers of all this magnificence. 

Lord Woolcut was a man advanced in years, 
with a full, ruddy-colored face, rather heavy in 
expression at full view, but, when turned aside, 
the stern, almost classic severity of outline, the 
stately curve of the brow, the perfect form of the 
large, full gray eye, the firmly compressed lips, 
all inspired the beholder with a feeling akin to 
that which is felt in contemplating the profile of 
one of the old Itomans. One would scarcely be- 
lieve, at such times, that nature had adorned the 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 39 

casket more than the gem ; yet his lordship pos- 
sessed no transcendant gifts of head or hearty 
and his peculiar characteristic was an obstinate 
bigotry, which revealed itself at all times and 
under all circumstances. 

The Hon. Miss Woolcut closely resembled her 
father in many respects. There was the same 
sternness of profile, the same grandeur of fore- 
head, the same large gray eyes, perfect in form 
and color, but with no depth or softness of ex- 
pression to relieve their cold, searching glance. 
In person she was tall and queenly, with an un- 
mistakable air of high breeding in the regal poise 
of her well-shaped head, the slow grace of every 
motion, and the serene composure, which no 
shock slighter than that of an earthquake could 
possibly disturb. 

There was another person present, a pale, 
ladylike woman, who sat in a recess partly hid- 
den b}^ the window drapery, with her eyes sedu- 
lously bent on her embroidery. This was, as 
Mrs. G-illman conjectured, Miss Woolcut^s former 
governess, who, since the death of Lady Woolcut, 
had exercised a general supervision over the af- 
fairs of the household, and was an occasional com- 
panion for her former pupil. The kind heart of 
the parson's wife felt much compassion for this 


40 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

forlorn person, who was evidently accustomed 
to remaining ^^in the shadow, and this feeling 
aided her to overcome the awkward embarrass- 
ment of which, on Walter's account more than 
her own, she felt heartily ashamed. 

But her presence seemed quite forgotten by 
the trio who sat at a little distance, discussing 
schools, charities, and other matters pertaining 
to the new parson’s charge. She felt somewhat 
proud that several suggestions of her husband 
seemed to meet the approval of the Lord Bishop, 
who always turned with stately courtesy to his 
daughter for her opinion of matters which cer- 
tainly interested her as much as any thing could. 
Mrs. Giilman, who, despite her national reserve, 
was apt to indulge in vulgar enthusiasm on oc- 
casions, mentally designated the lady a statue, 
and became quite irritated at the sound of the 
low, clear voice, which, whether uttering ap- 
proval or dissent, never varied in the slightest 
degree from its calm monotone. She was begin- 
ning, too, to feel rather hurt at being so entirely 
overlooked; but just then Miss Woolcut drew 
near with her stately grace, and, sinking into a 
chair close by, began to make inquiries as to her 
health, her family, how she had borne the journey 
from England, how she liked her new abode, &c. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 41 

Tho visitor, priding herself on being strong and 
“ wholesome, was quite taken aback by the in- 
sinuation that her health had suffered from tho 
wearisome journey : for to this cause Miss Wool- 
cut chose to attribute the faintness which had 
happily passed away, as she knew it would by a 
few moments of perfect rest and quiet. This 
was said in a manner to imply an apology for 
having so long left the visitor to herself; but 
Mrs. Gillman felt sure that those cold gray eyes 
had fathomed her mental distress; and, unused 
to the tact of polished society, was provoked by 
this interruption, of her embarrassed deport- 
ment; in her estimation it was downright hy- 
pocrisy, culpable disingenuousness — and in a 
bishop^s daughter, too ! So, being, as she was 
wont to say, a plain up-and-down person, with- 
out affectation or hypocrisy she made no effort 
to be agreeable to her hostess, but maintained 
her part of the conversation in the fewest words 
possible. 

She was wishing that her husband's business 
with the bishop would come to an end, when, to 
her dismay, a servant announced luncheon, 
throwing open the door of a small room where a 
table was spread with what she deemed a sump- 
tuous dinner, rather than a mere lunch. She had 


42 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

no appetite just then, and her admiration of the 
beautiful decorations of the room, and the richly 
chased silver and cut glass sparkling on the table 
and sideboard, rendered her almost unmindful of 
the dainty fare so exquisitely served. And her 
nervous trepidation returned every time she was 
addressed by his lordship, whose formal, cere- 
monious manner was poorly calculated to set her 
at ease, and whose cold, scrutinizing glance she 
shrank from encountering. Presently, to her 
relief, he addressed himself to her husband, re- 
suming the conversation that had been inter- 
rupted by the summons to luncheon. 

So you have but one fault to find with your 
new charge, Mr. Gillman, and that, if I may 
inquire 

‘‘Is the paucity of numbers,’^ replied the 
curate, with a smile, “I must confess having 
been most disagreeably surprised when I found 
on Sunday morning that my own family and the 
sexton^s comprised a large part of my congrega- 
tion; fully one-third, I imagine; and at afternoon 
service the attendance was even more slim.^^ 

“I am sorry to hear this, yet scarcely sur- 
prised, said his lordship, “for of late the con- 
gregation has been gradually falling off. It is a 
sad change within a short period. The last time 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 43 

I visited that church the pews were pretty well 
filled, the people seemed very attentive to the 
service, and ten or twelve presented themselves 
to be confirmed, which was all very satisfactory^ 
as you, sir, may imagine. Indeed, it was the 
most pleasant day I spent during my ‘visita- 
tion quite consoling in every respect.^' 

“ I am sure of it,^^ replied the curate. ‘‘ It 
fully recompensed your lordship for much care 
and anxiety.^^ 

“ Oh, my thought the curate’s wife, “ how 
can Walter speak so? As if he ever felt any 
care, except for himself — pshaw !” 

“ But is it possible,” continued the curate, 
‘‘ that there has been so great a falling olf within 
a year ! Truly, a sad change, as your lordship 
observed.” 

His lordship reflected a moment; his daughter 
recollected some events that had occurred about 
the same time, and it was thus found that more 
than two years had elapsed since the consolatory 
visit. 

“ Last year,” resumed the bishop, “ there were 
no candidates for confirmation. I was some- 
what disappointed, but Mr. Miller (who was 
then the curate) made a long explanation, which 
I deemed satisfactory; but I have since learned 


44 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

that he was mistaken in many of his views and 
expectations.*^ 

<‘One part of his explanation seemed quite 
clear” said Miss Woolcut. During the previous 
Lent several priests from England (Jesuits, I 
believe,) had conducted some special services at 
the Popish chapel, and by all accounts the ex- 
ercises of this ^ spiritual retreat/ as it was termed, 
were so captivating that really it was not strange 
that many of our poor converts, led thither by a 
fatal curiosity, lost the light of gospel truth and 
relapsed into their old superstitions.^* 

‘‘ A very natural consequence/* said Mr. Gill- 
man. Those retreats seem to be of the same 
nature as the ^revivals/ so popular with the 
Methodists. Enthusiasm misleads the judgment ; 
excited feeling is mistaken for religion. But the 
effect is generally transient, and the converts 
^ backslide* after the excitement subsides.** 

^‘So Mr. Miller anticipated/* said Lord Wool- 
cut; ^‘but the reaction he so confidently pre- 
dicted never took place. On the contrary, those 
who left us at that time have since helped to 
delude others, and the result, as you have seen, 
is almost an empty temple of worship. I rely 
upon you to bring back the wanderers, Mr. Gill- 
man. The work will require all your energies, 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 45 

for 3^011 have a wily and untiring foe in the 
Eoman priest — Father Dillon, I think, they call 
him ; but the victory when gained will be all the 
more glorious/^ 

I shall endeavor to fulfil your lordship’s ex- 
pectations,’’ said the curate. At least I may 
safely promise that no effort on my part will be 
wanting ; but you know, my lord, ‘ Paul planteth, 
&c.,’ ” he added with a smile. 

Certainly — most undoubtedly. But rest as- 
sured, my dear sir, success is rarely denied to 
well-directed, persevering energy. Of this our 
opponents furnish sufficient truth. We know 
that God’s blessing doth not rest on their labors, 
that He gives not the increase — 3"et they are 
wonderfully successful eveiy where, and why? 
Simply because their whole souls are in their 
work. They labor with a zeal and self-denial 
that would be truly apostolic if exerted in the 
cause of truth, to promote the interests of their 
church; they are ready to encounter every dif- 
ficulty, to surmount every obstacle, to endure 
every privation, rather than fail. Would that a 
similar spirit reigned among our clergy ! Its 
happy results would soon be perceptible.” 

Are you not rather severe upon our minis- 
ters. papa?” said Miss Woolcut. ‘‘Doubtless 


46 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


there are some of them devoid of the spirit which 
you eulogize, but there must be many who are 
laborious and zealous, though having more dif- 
ficulties to contend with than the Eomish clergy, 
and lacking those adventitious aids which con- 
tribute not a little to their success/^ 

Granted, my daughter. The severe simplicity 
of our faith appeals not to the ignorant masses 
like the gorgeous but unmeaning pageantries of 
the Church of Eome. Ours is a religion of the 
reason, not of the imagination. But, conceding 
this, it is still certain that a great deal can be 
done by vigorous and judicious action ; and I 
must repeat that I hope much from Mr. Gillman^s 
ministry at Bartrymore. I have the interest of 
that district peculiarly at heart, sir; and, should 
you succeed in permanently establishing the Ee- 
formed Faith in that benighted region, you will 
entitle yourself to my warmest gratitude.^^ 

A cMd reward enough, Mrs. Gillman thought. 
The imperious bishop began to assume the 
character of an exacting task-master in her eyes, 
and she felt provoked by her husband’s quiet 
reply, intimating due appreciation of the confi- 
dence his lordship was pleased to entertain of his 
zeal and abilities. 

Miss Woolcut next expressed her opinion that 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 47 

in such a parish as his very much depended on 
the schools; an opinion in which the curate was 
happy to coincide. Upon which his lordship 
proceeded to expatiate on what he hoped from 
the Bartrymore schools. Mr. Gillman could not 
assent cordially to all his views, but was quite 
ready to admit the necessity of training the chil- 
dren of the peasantry in institutions where the 
errors and superstitions of Eomanism would bo 
gradually eradicated from their young minds, and 
^pure gospel truths^ implanted instead. Then 
even if the adult population persisted in their 
errors, through the force of habit and early pre- 
judices, the progress of truth would become 
manifest as the rising generation advanced to 
maturity. 

am glad to find you taking such a practical 
view of the subject,^’ said the bishop. To speak 
candidly, our expectations of progress in this 
neighborhood are founded mainly on the schools. 
With the majority of the adults your zealous 
efforts will, I fear, prove fruitless ; hut the children ! 
They, at least, shall be brought to the knowledge 
of the true religion. Every means must be re- 
sorted to in order to induce a large attendance 
at the schools. If gentle methods fail, we shall 
not hesitate to use harsher ones. The parents 


48 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

must send their children to be properly in- 
structed. If any refuse they shall be driven 
forth, (as far as my power and influence extend,) 
and their places either be left desolate or he 
filled by others more tractable.^^ 

The curate^s wife turned on the Christian 
bishop a look of incredulous horror. ^^But the 
poor people — what will become of them she 
asked hastily. Surely your lordship would not 
leave them without shelter 

What a beaming glance was that which Wal- 
ter Gillman gave the true hearted wife, whose 
womanly feelings, triumphing over her natural 
timidity, enabled her to fix her honest, earnest 
gaze unshrinkingly on the great man whose 
glance she had not hitherto dared to meet. There 
was deep silence for a moment after that unex- 
pected intervention.^^ 

Then his lordship replied, in his accustomed 
tone, We are merely supposing a case, Mrs. 
Gillman. It is not probable that there will be 
any occasion for resorting to a measure which 
has, unfortunately, incurred your disapproval.^' 

The sarcasm was quite thrown away upon 
its object, who was now ‘^done with the lord 
bishop," as well as with his honorable daughter. 
Henceforth she would never think of him with- 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 49 

out picturing to herself the driving forth pro- 
cess so coolly spoken of. She gave no further 
heed to anything that was said, ceased to notice 
the occasional remarks of Mrs. Wood, (the quon- 
dam governess,) save in the coolest manner, and 
only breathed freely when once more in the car- 
riage, with her back turned to the elegant man- 
sion, which, as she emphatically told her hus- 
band, she had seen for the first and last time. 

And thus terminated the important visit in 
which neither party had made a favorable im- 
pression. Lord Woolcut pronounced the new 
curate an opinionative man — a fault which his 
lordship only tolerated in himself — well disposed, 
doubtless, and willing to perform the duties of 
his office, but only in his own way ; it remained 
to be seen whether that way was a good one; 
his lordship doubted it, but would give him a 
fair trial. In this opinion his daughter fully 
concurred ; she had noticed this jpeculiarity in the 
Kev. Mr. Gillman. As for his wife, she was sum- 
marily dismissed from consideration, with the 
brief verdict of a vulgar, disagreeable sort of 
person,’^ very ill-bred, indeed 

Mrs. Gillman^s opinion of her superiors was 
not to be summed up so briefly. It took her a 
full hour by the clock to make her sister ac- 


50 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

quainted with what she thought of Miss Wool- 
cut. And as for the lord bishop — words failed 
her in describing him. Domineering, cruel, 
tyrannical, — pshaw, how inadequate were such 
epithets ! If it was not for the respect duo to 
him as bishop of the diocess, she could easily tell 
what she thought of him. ^‘And there was 
Walter, talking so smoothly, and agreeing to 
whatever his lordship chose to say ! — it pro. 
voked her to see a man not having an opinion of 
his own, or, if he had one, not presuming to de- 
clare it.^’ 

My dear,^^ said the amused parson, would 
you have had me commence a controversy with 
his lordship on subjects of which I, ^ a stranger 
in a strange land,’ know little, if anything? 
Would he care the snap of his finger, think you, 
whether I saw the wisdom or humanity of his 
various measures, or was blind thereto 

Mrs. Gillman did not choose to respond; so, 
woman-like, started on a new tack. 

Whatever on earth did you find to talk about 
so long with him, and that inanimate Apiece of 
goods,’ his daughter ?” 

Church matters in general and parish affairs 
in particular; more especially the education of 
the children, to promote which, as you after- 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 51 


wards learned, they are exceedingly anxious. 
And there was much to be said respecting a cer- 
tain Miss Clara Hudson, principal-elect of the 
girls' department. Said department being under 
the patronage of the Hon. Miss Woolcut — (« Oh, 
Clara !' burst from Mrs. Gillman in a tone of utter 
dismay) — she is naturally very deeply interested 
in its welfare — As if she could be interested in 
anything V muttered Mrs. G.) — and has the moral 
and intellectual advancement of the pupils much 
at heart; — ‘ Aye, if she has a heart 1’ — she has de- 
vised various plans for increasing the popularity 
and consequent usefulness of the school, which 
have been approved by her noble father, the 
bishop, as also by her honorable brother, the 
rector — (‘ It's to be hoped he's like them — there 
ought to be three such Solomons in the world !') — 
but has never been so fortunate as to meet with 
any curate willing to co-operate in carrying out 
said plans." (^Good luck to them for that^ who- 
ever they may have been !') 

Mr. Gillman and Miss Hudson could no longer 
restrain their laughter. 

Why, sister, you are learning to speak a la 
Irish," said the latter merrily. But, really, I 
fear a visit to our bishop is not at all improving 
to one's temper or manners, judging by its effect 
on our dear Emily." 


52 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

“ I know/^ said Mrs. Gillman, I shall feel out 
of sorts for a week to come. Clara, there is no 
use in your undertaking that school. You’ll 
have to give it up. Why, I would’nt be con- 
cerned in anything she has to do with for all the 
money in the Bank of England.” 

^^But you won’t be concerned in this, sister 
mine, and I fancy I shall get along very well 
with this formidable patroness.” 

Don’t flatter yourself with such expectations, 
Clara. I will tell you just what you will find 
her to be — ” 

I beg of you let us be done with her for 
to-day. Don’t make my trial any harder by pre- 
possessing me against the lady, Em ; that is not 
kind in you.’^ 

Well, well, joke over it while you can; you 
will soon find it no laughing matter. I am sure 
I pity you and Walter,” continued the little wo- 
man, looking compassionately from one to the 
other; “it is horrid to be obliged to please or 
try to please, I should say, two such — bears, I 
was going to call them ; but then bears, if they 
are cruel, do not act the hypocrite, and — ” 

“ O, Emily ! what are you saying ? Is this 
your respect for the bishop of the diocess ?” 

“ I don’t care a fig what ho is. I should like 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 53 

just to give him a piece of my mind. After all, 
my first opinion of him was right.’' 

You have done that already, my dear, and a 
very considerable ‘piece,’ too, I imagine,” said 
her husband, laughing heartily; “so rest satis- 
fied. Where did you get so much courage, little 
wife ? It was truly ‘ bearding the lion in his 
den’ to find fault with one of his lordship’s pet 
plans. Poor Mrs. Wood looked as terrified as if 
she were beside some wild animal just breaking 
loose from its cage.” 

“ Poor creature ! She looks as if she would 
not dare to say her soul was her own if the 
bishop chose to claim it ; for that matter, I be- 
lieve he does claim to own both souls and bodies 
of those who are in any way dependent on him.” 

“O, Emily! Emily! you are incorrigible!” 
said her husband, as he retired to his studj’’. 

“ And you are as much disappointed in them 
as I am !” said his wife. 

An assertion which the new curate could not 
gainsay. 



CHAPTER IV. 

The Schools. 



) F the new curate had been surprised at 
gg the smallness of his congregation, not less 
^ so was the new schoolmistress when she 
beheld the few scholars who seemed almost 
lost in the spacious room allotted to the 
Girls^ Department, in the handsome building 
which had been erected without regard to ex- 
pense for educational’^ — e., proselytising — 

purposes.’’ Her duties as teacher were no way 
onerous, for the majority of the pupils consisted 
of infants of four or five years, to whom two Paid 
Monitors gave instruction in the alphabet; while 
of the larger girls very few were advanced be- 
yond the Second Book. Accustomed to teach in 
a Young Ladies’ Academy, where the ologies 
and accomplishments” were the only branches 
to which the pupils devoted their time, the 
young English lady found the Model School of 
Bartrymore a very trifling affair. No oppor- 
( 54 ) 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 55 

tunity was alforded to try the comparative value 
of old and new systems; she was obliged to let 
things go on in the ordinary routine of the Pri- 
mary School, annoying and tedious beyond de- 
scription to one accustomed to teach the higher 
branches of learning. 

Yet for this, as for most of our trials, there 
is a compensation,^^ she said one evening, when 
conversing with her sister and the curate. 

These Irish ^children have a natural ^ smart- 
ness,' as the Yankees say — a turn for study 
really astonishing. They are easily roused to 
ambition, and incited to take an interest in their 
tasks, and are always ready to listen to illustra- 
tions, explanations and definitions, which they 
readily comprehend, and of which, I verily be- 
lieve, they would not weary all day long. Our 
English children may make more solid progress; 
but they are wanting in the quickness these 
children manifest, as well as in the hearty in- 
terest they take in learning." 

Mrs. Gillman, who, with all her good qualities, 
was intensely English, and religiously believed 
in the vast superiority of ‘Hhe Saxon" over all 
other races in every respect, thought Miss Hud- 
son’s observation was very odd, and was still 
more struck when the curate said that he had 


5(5 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

noticed the same thing in his frequent visits to 
the Boys^ Department/^ 

If I were a teacher/' he added, “ I should 
prefer Irish boys to English as pupils ; they are 
so impressible and enthusiastic. Touch their 
fancy, excite their imagination, and you can 
mould them as you will." 

Mrs. Gillman thought that in any case she 
should give the preference to her own people. 

<^Not if you were a teacher," said her sister. 

You cannot think, Emily, how refreshing it is, 
in the monotonous routine of teaching, to meet 
with this quick perception — almost intuitive, it 
seems; and then the enthusiasm so quickly excited, 
and sometimes in a manner that seems incredible. 
To give an instance : The other afternoon I was 
reading the beautiful description of ‘ Evangeline/ 
in my favorite poem, when school re assembled. 
With some reluctance I laid aside my book, when 
one of the larger girls, attracted, perhaps, by the 
handsome binding, begged of me to ^read for 
them out of that book.' Bead Longfellow for an 
audience like that! The idea was laughable. 
But I saw that the whole class had assumed an 
attitude of attention in anticipation of a treat, 
and as I never like to disappoint a reasonable ex- 
pectation, I complied, and read aloud the lines 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 57 

that were still lingering in my memory, with 
such other passages here and there as I deemed 
most suitable. Emily, you should have seen 
those children ! Little creatures, who could not 
possibly understand the poem, listened with an 
eager desire to know what it was about ^ and 
several of the older ones hung upon every word 
with breathless interest, their eyes sparkling 
with delight at some lines of rare beauty, and 
filling with tears when I read any pathetic pas- 
sage. I would not have believed such a thing 
possible. Glancing up from time to time, I found 
their interest unabated; and when at length, 
with a guilty consciousness of ^ wasting school 
time,^ I closed the book, their faces were clouded 
with regret. One awkward, uncouth-looking 
creature, drew a long breath, as if released from 
a spell, and came to my desk with wonderful 
boldness (for she is very shy of the teacher), to 
ask me earnestly ‘ if I wouldh:it read some more 
of it another day.^ I asked her if she liked it, 
when, to my increased amazement, she answered, 
‘ I could hear to it all the day, ma’am. Isn’t it jest 
like the sound of the organ at High Mass, that 
carries ye out of yerself, till ye trimble and cry, 
but can’t tell what for?’ When I promised to 
read some every day as a reward for those who 


58 


THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


attended to their lessons, she turned abruptly 
and addressed the school something in this way : 

^ Girrils, listhen, will ye ? The misthress will be 
readin’ some of that grand poethry for us ivery 
day if we mind our books/ I could no longer 
refrain from laughing. That broguCy combined 
with the relish for the exquisite poem, was irre- 
sistible. However, I endorsed the promise, and 
you would have thought I had promised those 
peasant children some rare treat. How imagine 
a similar scene in any common school in England. 
Hay, imagine the cultivated young ladies of 
Mrs. Bell’s Academy listening to Longfellow : 
What dull looks and distressing yawns — what 
restless motions and impatient whispers. Per- 
haps out of the whole number six or eight would 
be attentive. In my poor Irish school there 
were not more than that many inattentive, and 
they were of the baby class.^' 

‘‘ You remind me of what I felt a few weeks 
ago when I went to St. Patrick’s Church,’’ said 
Mr. Gillman. ‘^It was on the festival of the As- 
sumption, as you may remember. I have already 
told you something of the ceremonies, &c. ; but 
what I never can describe — though I shall al- 
ways recollect it — was the eager and intelligent 
interest with which that congregation of poor, 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 59 

uneducated men and women listened to Father 
Dillon^s sermon. It was the most thrilling ser- 
mon I ever heard, abounding in poetic passages 
and beautiful imagery. In language that seemed 
almost inspired, he pictured the life of the Virgin 
of Nazareth, blending all that is told of her in 
the bible with the various traditions of his 
Church, until he presented her enthroned as 
Queen of heaven and earth, and appointed by 
her divine Son the dispenser of all His graces 
and blessings to the children of earth, each one 
of whom He had addressed from the cross when 
saying to St. John, ^ Behold thy Mother ! It was 
such a sermon as one of the ancient fathers 
would have preached, full of eloquence, the 
eloquence alike of the head and the heart, 
awakening the most varied and lively emotions. 
Truly an intellectual treat, such as I had never 
enjoyed before, but one which I would not have 
deemed the majority of the worthy priest's audi- 
tors capable of appreciating." 

Neither were they," interrupted his wife; 

I suppose not one in twenty understood him 
It is a great pity to have such gifts wasted on a 
congregation like his." 

You would not deem them wasted had you 
been present, Emily." 


60 THE CONFESSOES OF CONNAUGHT; 

You judged the people by yourself, Walter, 
and thought all must feel as you did/^ 

So they did, but much more deeply replied 
her husband, with a smile, “ for while I was only 
captivated by the eloquence with which he in- 
vested a theme that to me seemed quite absurd, 
they believed it, and must consequently have 
found the sermon more impressive. But, like 
Clara about Longfellow^s poetry, I felt how un- 
suited such a strain of eloquence and lofty 
thought would have been to a similar class of 
hearers in England. And, on the other hand, 
how unacceptable to an audience like Father 
Dillon^s would be the coarse, common-place ha- 
rangue which we went to hear one night in Lon- 
don, and to which thousands of the lower and 
middle classes of Londoners listened with admi- 
ration and interest. I remember being surprised 
at the remark of an Irish laborer which I over- 
heard in passing along the street the next morn- 
ing. His companions were speaking of the 
popular preacher, when Pat interrupted them 
with an air of impatient disgust. ^ I heerd him 
last night — is that what yez call fine praiching 
in England ? Bedad, if he was to set up for a 
great praicher in Ireland we’d laugh at him.’ ” 

I have no doubt of that,” said Clara. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 61 

“Well/^ said Mrs. Gillmaii, laughing, yet a 
little piqued, all that I can see is that you are 
both bent on making the Irish appear a superior 
race.^^ 

Come, come, Emily, donH be so unreasonable. 
Has not each nation some peculiar characteristic? 
And why should we feel chagrin or vexation 
because Heaven has seen fit to endow the Irish 
with a warm fervor of fancy — a poetic tempera- 
ment — above other people ? Shutting our eyes 
to the fact will not make it cease to be one. I 
have lately given much thought to this subject, 
believing it to have an important bearing on the 
work in which we are all deeply interested. 
Every day serves to make it more clear to my 
mind that, until these prevailing characteristics 
of the Irish are considerably modified, their con- 
version to Protestantism in large numbers is im- 
possible. Individual conversions will, of course, 
be made, but very few in comparison with the 
population.’^ 

‘^Then why is such strong encouragement 
given to the people of England to contribute to 
the church mission in Ireland? You know, 
Walter, that it is firmly believed there that the 
Word of God is being gladly received in Con- 
naught.’’ 


62 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Yes, and that there is a necessity for erecting 
large and commodious churches without delay 
to accommodate the converts. But, my dear, as- 
sertions are not always to be credited. It may 
be that the people who write those encouraging 
reports of the spread of Protestanism in Con- 
naught believe what they assert. ‘ The wish is 
father to the thought' with many persons. For 
myself, with every desire to see the cause of 
truth progressing, I am compelled not merely to 
doubt their accuracy, but to disbelieve, in toto, 
those glowing accounts in which I used to place 
implicit confidence." 

Mrs. Gillman looked troubled. If her husband 
was correct, those glowing accounts were nothing 
but falsehoods — artful, unblushing impostures — 
her candid, straightforward disposition could ap- 
ply to them no milder name; yet how could she 
thus designate ‘‘ reports" emanating from the 
highest and most unquestionable sources?" 

^‘Judging by our own experience, I cannot see 
that the state of affairs is at all encouraging," 
said her sister. To be sure the Bartrymoreans 
are not as reserved and suspicious towards the 
Protestant minister and his family as they 
seemed at first ; but the change, I imagine, is 
due simply to Father Dillon's friendly manner to 
him, whom he styles his esteemed antagonist." 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 63 

How different he is from what I had imagined 
an Irish priest to be/^ said Mrs. Gillman. 
would never take him to be one.^' 

He is a most agreeable acquaintance/^ re- 
joined her husband; ^‘lively and entertaining, 
without any approach to unclerical levity — a 
person with whom one can converse with the 
freedom and unreserve which constitute the 
charm of social intercourse.^^ 

I like him especially for one thing/^ said Mrs. 
Gillman. ‘^He never seems to wish to enforce 
his religious views or opinions on others. 1 used 
to be in agony whenever he dropped in (as he 
says) in a friendly way, for fear he would attack 
me on the subject of religion; but I believe he 
never thought of such a thing.” 

Then that was the reason why you used to 
take so little pleasure in the good priest's visits ! 
I agree with you that nothing was farther from 
his thoughts, probably, than such interference. 
He never seems to think of the difference in 
creed or clime, unless an opportunity offers to 
make some pleasant hit, which he is just as well 
pleased to have returned.” 

O, yes, I would never think of finding fault 
with him in that. He is one to ^ give fun and 
take fun/ and you always know how to get along 
with such a person.” 


64 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Now it is my turn to say something in praise 
of the ^Komish priest of Bartrymore/ as Mr. 
Egan persists in calling our good friend,'^ said 
Clara ; but you have left nothing for me to add, 
unless I say that teacher and scholars are equally 
delighted when he visits our school; he is so 
lively and full of anecdote and wit, and yet has 
the most cunning way imaginable of drawing 
from every thing some useful moral for the 
children. They esteem his visits as a great com- 
pliment, especially as he does not go to the boys’ 
school. I often hear them boasting that ^the 
Father would’nt go near the boys — he just comes 
to see Miss Clara and us F ” 

I don’t think it is fair or liberal in the priest 
to refuse to visit the boys’ school, because their 
teacher’s father turned from the Catholic re- 
ligion, and brought his children up Protestants, 
which certainly was a praiseworthy thing in the 
old man. Why should Father Dillon refuse on 
that account to have anything to do with the 
school or the teacher? I am sure we are all 
Protestants, and yet he is as friendly with us as 
need be.” 

He makes a great distinction, my dear wife. 
He does not deem those who are Protestants by 
birth and education responsible for their er- 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 65 

roneous faith; but old Egan turned Protestant 
not through conviction, but because he thought 
it more respectable and more likely to advance 
his interests. At least so Father Dillon thinks, 
and I am inclined to agree with him, for the 
sexton troubles himself very little about religion. 
I doubt if he ever says a prayer, and I know it 
would puzzle him greatly to tell what the Epis- 
copal Church teaches or what she eondemns.’^ 
^^For all that he was right in renouncing an 
erroneous creed, Walter.^^ 

Granted. But I confess that I should prefer 
conversions made through an intelligent con- 
viction that our religion is the true one. The 
priest, however, assures me that conversions 
from his church are always made through mo- 
tives of worldly gain, or through repugnance to 
the strict rules of the Catholic Faith. What do 
you think of that doctrine, ladies 

Margaret Lynch holds the very same. She 
insists that no Catholic ever yet left the church 
through a sincere, heartfelt conviction that he or 
she was adopting a purer Faith, or beeoming 
more aeeeptable to God.^' 

Very complimentary that to those whose an- 
cestors left her church,^^ said the curate^s wife. 
So I told her, and affected to be quite of- 


66 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

fended ; but she insisted that I was not, and had 
really no cause to be, for such apostacy was 
fashionable at the time, and, of course, commend- 
able — just like the bold robberies and piracies to 
which so many noble houses in Europe owe the 
ancestral honors that their scions proudly wear/' 
‘^What a comparison," said Mrs. Gillman. 
^‘But, Clara, Miss Lynch never talks to mo in 
that way. I always find her very agreeable; 
and Mrs. Brown also. Indeed I like them both 
very much." 

So do I," said her sister and not the less 
from having frequent passages at arms with them, 
about our respective creeds and climes; for I do 
like people to be sturdy defenders of their own 
side of a question. By the way, Margaret and I 
had a hearty laugh to-day about my poetic 
readings." 

I hope you are not so foolishly indulgent as 
to keep your promise to read poetry for those 
peasant children, Clara?" interrupted her sister. 

Surely you would not have me break it, sister 
Emily; that would be giving them a rather bad 
example, would it not ?" 

^^Why, you would not exactly break your 
promise; they would never think of it again if 
you did not remind them of it.^' 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 67 

indeed, they do remember it, Emily. 
As regularly as school closes each afternoon 
they make ready to hear ‘ the mistress read,^ and 
surely it would be a cruel thing to deprive them 
of what affords so much gratification. But as I 
was about to tell you, this afternoon as I was 
reading my usual three pages in ^ Evangeline,^ 
Margaret Lynch ran in, being in haste, as usual, 
to get at work on her wax flowers. When the 
children had left the school room, curious as 
they always are to know what will come next, 
(for the interest of most of them in the poem is 
unabated,) she picked up the book, as if in amaze- 
ment, and said very seriously, ‘ I wonder if Miss 
Clara Hudson knows what she is doing ? Such 
a book read in this school ? It is incredible.^ I 
felt a little proud of my pupils as I answered 
that probably she thought as I did at first that 
it would be all Greek to them, but that on the 
contrary they understood it very well. ^ I know 
iV said she, ^and that is just the reason that I 
wonder at your reading it for them.^ I stared at 
her in astonishment, not knowing what she 
could deem objectionable in my favorite poem. 
At last she said, as demurely as ever, ^ The idea 
of yoUy who have been installed here as promoter 
of Lord Woolcut's plan to convert the children 


68 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

of Irish Papists to J^rotestantism, introducing a 
volume like this, with its touching pictures of 
what the ^ Papists' of Nova Scotia once suffered 
from this same Protestantism/ I could not help 
laughing at her manner. The objection had 
never occurred to me ; but I told her, in extenua- 
tion of my thoughtlessness, that the children 
would not understand for what cause the poor 
Acadians had been persecuted. -As if I won't 
make it my business to tell the tale at catechism,' 
said she, ‘ and several of your scholars belong to 
my class. Oh, it is too good a joke — I must stop 
and tell Father Dillon as I go home what appro- 
priate reading Miss Hudson chooses for her 
school.’ " 

“ She ought to have started at once with the 
good news," said the curate. 

Perhaps she would if it were not for her 
haste to get her wax flowers begun. But we 
had some merriment over ou*r work at what she 
was pleased to call my lamentable breach of 
trust, and especially in fancying what Miss Wool- 
cut would think if it came to her knowledge." 

think she would forget her stately com- 
posure on such an occasion, and condescend to 
be highly displeased." 

Very likely," was Clara's cool reply; but if 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 69 

she is patroness of the school, I am mistress. 
The lady understands that full well, for she has 
seen that I can be as decided and resolute, 
in a careless way, as herself'^ 

It perplexes me how you can get on with her 
so well,'^ said Mrs. Gillman. 

The explanation is very simple, Emily. She 
saw from the first that I would not permit any 
interference in my management of the school, 
and though I do not fiatter myself that I have 
risen in her estimation by this course, still it has 
bad the effect I wished.^^ 

But she often visits the school 
O yes, and on such occasions is always re- 
ceived in the most polite and respectful manner, 
of course. So is his lordship, when he deigns us 
a visit. And they both express themselves highly 
pleased with the improvement of my scholars. 
Sometimes his lordship expresses a regret that 
the attendance is not larger, in which I sincerely 
concur; then he consoles me by an assurance that 
in gaining the affection of my pupils, I have done 
a good work, the result of which will be evident 
after a time, in the growing popularity of the 
school. So you j^erceive, Emily, we are on most 
amicable terms.'^ 

Mrs. Gillman's countenance expressed her 


70 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUOHT; 

pleasure. She was quite proud to think that 
Clara managed so well to be independent of Miss 
Woolcut^s influence in school affairs. So were 
the pupils, which was one cause of the teacher^s 
popularity with them, and with the peasantry in 
general. For, the haughty, reserved manner of 
the great lady had not won for her either respect 
or affection from the poor people of Bartrymore, 
and it was delightful for them to find that the 
school- mistress did not let herself be put upon 
by Miss Woolcut;^^ to be ‘^able to hold her own 
with the proud daughter of his lordship,'' was no 
slight recommendation with his tenants and 
laborers. 

Miss Hudson devoted herself faithfully to 
secure the intellectual progress of her pupils. 
As to their religious education, it was conducted 
with what the noble patrons would have thought 
a reprehensible liberality. The Bible was read, 
of course ; but those children whose parents were 
unfortunately blind to the superior merits of 
King James’ version were at liberty to use their 
own, or to dispense with scriptural tasks alto- 
gether : the teacher being so far behind the age 
as to imagine, that there were better modes of in- 
stilling a love for religion into youthful minds 
and hearts^ than that of compelling them to 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 71 

commit to memory chapters of the Bible.’' Mr. 
Gillman frequently gave religious lectures to the 
school; so did Father J)illon ; both the reverend 
gentlemen confining themselves to subjects suited 
to the capacity and wants of their young auditors. 

The ladies of the parsonage and those of the 
Catholic school were on the most friendly terms, 
visiting each other frequently, and holding long 
and earnest consultations about the various mat- 
ters, great and small, which absorb so much of 
time and thought in every family. And Miss 
Lynch gave Miss Hudson some useful suggestions 
about her school, and received some new ideas in 
return, which she found applicable to her own. 
The former taught her new friend gold em- 
broidery — a sort of work in which she was un- 
usually proficient from working various articles 
for the Church — and learned in return to make 
wax flowers in the most beautiful manner, an art 
hitherto unknown in Bar try more, and to which 
the afternoons in Clara’s school were devoted, to 
the intense delight of her pupils. Every one, even 
to the smallest, took part in the work, and the 
result of their industry was a superb basket of 
flowers, a Christmas gift from the school to its 
patroness, who was vastly pleased thereby, as 
was also her father. Margaret’s flowers were 


72 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

intended for the altar of St. Patrick’s, and formed 
a very attractive part of its Christmas decora- 
tions. ^ 

Altogether it was a peaceful time in Bartry- 
more. The reign of Bible readers,” ranting 
soupers,” and all their fanatical crew seemed 
at an end. 



1 


CHAPTER V. 


Reminiscences of the Famine. 



JES. Gillman, as in duty bound, hated 
^ idle gossip ; but yet the desire to 
I know something of one^s neighbors 
is natural; and, coming to a land 
where the people and their ways 
were as strange to her as if they 
belonged to another world, she felt 
a very pardonable curiosity to learn something 
of them. To gratify this was easy, through the 
medium of Nancy Boyle, who came once a week 
to the parsonage in the capacity of laundress, 
and at such other times as extra help was needed. 
Nancy was a rather good looking woman, whose 
hearty laugh and genial voice the curate's wife 
liked to hear, though the brogue was rather per- 
plexing at first — she was not quite sure that she 
understood it right. But, when a woman, anx- 
ious to obtain information, meets with another 
equally anxious to impart it, there is little doubt 
( 73 ) 


74 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


about their coming to a mutual understanding : 
so Mrs. Gillman soon learned to comprehend 
Nancy’s brogue,” and acquired a very re- 
spectable stock of information, regarding the 
people of Bartrymore. This she of course gene- 
rously retailed to the family circle, so that the 
curate was wont to congratulate her on the re- 
currence of washing and talking day, (forgetting 
the many hours he spent in similar chat with the 
sexton and school master.) Once he contrived 
some errand to the wash-house, where he beheld 
Nancy in her glory, lathering and rubbing away, 
while her tongue went in a manner that would 
put to shame the disbelievers in perpetual motion; 
and the mistress listened with unwearied interest, 
while doing up the fine things which could by no 
means be intrusted to other hands. The curate 
thought that this was an ingenious excuse for her 
presence in the wash-house; but he was a prudent 
man, and took care not to put the monstrous 
idea into words. 

There is a boy goes to the school that inter- 
ests Mr. Gillman greatly,” said the lady on one 
occasion. He is a ‘ paid Monitor,’ I think ; a 
very clever youth, Mr. Gillman says, and one who 
will get along in the world. His knowledge of 
the Bible is quite extraordinary.” 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 75 

I know who you’re meaning, ma’am; its Bob 
Costhello, isn’t it ?” 

‘‘Yes, that’s the name, Eobert Costello. The 
school-master says Lord Woolcut is delighted 
with Robert’s aptitude for learning, and especially 
his fondness for the sacred Scriptures, and takes 
a warm interest in his progress — so the lad’s for- 
tune is as good as made.” 

Nancy’s brow clouded, and the suds fiew about 
in an unwonted manner. ‘‘Yes,” she muttered 
between her teeth, “without doubt the villain’s 
fortune’s made,” and the rest of the sentence was 
lost in her abrupt fling of the clothes into the 
boiler. 

Mrs. Gillman would have been no woman, had 
not her curiosity been stimulated by this. There 
was evidently “a story to tell” — consequently a 
story to hear; so Nancy, although evidently re- 
luctant to continue the subject, was overcome by 
the “ mistress’s persuasions,” and with a sigh ^ 
began : 

“ It’s a sore heart I have whenever I think of 
them Costhellos. That boy’s mother and myself 
were like two twin sisters, from the cradle up ; 
though we were neither kith nor kin, and that’s 
a thing I’ve been thankful for this many a day, 
though many a time then I wished it otherwise. 


76 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Poor silly creatures that we are ! little we know 
what we^re wishing for half our time, and it’s a 
mercy that we don’t; nor what’s to come upon 
us, and upon them that’s dear to us. Norry 
Blake (as her name was then) was as purty a 
girl as you’d want to see, wid eyes as black as 
midnight, and the light in them like the stars; 
and cheeks as bright an’ as smooth as the leaves 
of a red rose. But why do I talk ? Sure you’ve 
seen Eobert, and he’s the image of her — only 
he’s gettin’ a look upon him this while past, that’s 
not like any she ever had — but when he was 
younger and innocent, he was as like the mother 
as one side *of a body’s face is to the other.” 

Eobert is a very good boy,” said Mrs. Gill- 
moan, who understood, more by the tone than 
the words, that Nancy was casting some reflec- 
tion on the best scholar in the bible class. Of 
course, when a youth is advancing to manhood, 
^ his features change a good deal; and for one of 
seventeen or eighteen, Eobert is well grown and 
manly looking.” 

‘^No doubt,” rejoined the washer- woman, who 
wouldn’t contradict, but would by no means 
change her own opinion. He’s forward an’ man- 
like beyond his years, ’tisn’t to-day nor yesterday 
ho got so. Well, as I was tollin’ yer ladyship, 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 77 

Norry Blake was a beauty when she stood at the 
altar to be married to Andy Costello ; a hand- 
some young boy he was, too, and what was 
better, a good one, but none too good for Norry. 
A happy couple they were, an’ though they lived 
in a thatched cabin, never a house in the land 
was tidier, or cleaner, or purtier to look at, for 
Norry could turn her hand to any work, an’ she 
always wanted every thing about her bright an’ 
snug. An’ Andy was a sober, industrious boy 
as ye could find, an’ brought home his earnings 
regular as the day. Norry’s father an’ mother 
were with them — they live in the same cabin yet, 
across the mountain yonder — it’s a lonely place, 
but maybe that same makes it better for them 
now. She was all the child they had livin’, an’ 
they just doted on her, an’ little wonder was 
there in that, when she was the talk an’ the delight 
of all that looked on her. So, time went on, an’ 
things were all right with them, an’ Norry was a 
happy woman an’ a proud one, when she went to 
Mass on Sundays an’ Holydays with her husband, 
an’ her ould parents, all so respectably clad, an’ 
her children rosy wid health an’ neat as hands 
could make them. Didn’t I love to look at the 
darlints ? ’Twas little less proud of them I was 
than herself, more betoken two of them was my 
own that I stood for at the font.” 


78 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Then I suppose Eobert is your god-child 
said Mrs. Giilman, as Nancy paused with a long- 
drawn sigh. * 

^‘No, then, he isn’t she replied, almost 
fiercely; Glory he to Him who took the ones I 
loved best from this world of wickedness and 
woe ! They have their place forever an’ ever 
among the angels at his blessed feet, an’ with 
them my own four darlints that I see often an’ 
often in my draims — praise be to God that I can 
see them then. Oh !” she added, with a wild 
burst of grief, ‘^many’s the salt tear I’ve shed 
for them, but I’ve lived to thank God that He 
took them to Himself, while they were innocent 
an’ fit to be in His holy presence; an’ still — 
miserable creature that I am ! — even while I’m 
thankful — an’ that I am, as He knows — still I 
must make my moan when I look around an’ 
miss them all from my side — the weeny darlints, 
that I loved as only a mother can.” 

Mrs. Gillmore’s eyes moistened, but deep as 
was her sympathy, her surprise was yet greater. 
This was the woman who had seemed to her a 
hard-working, honest creature, without a thought 
of care, always ready to talk and laugh, and, 
when left to herself, forever crooning some old 
Irish ditty, as if she had never known a sorrow ; 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 79 

this the woman whose careless lighthearted tem- 
perament had sometimes excited her pity — at 
other times her envy. Like all of her nation, 
she began to find these Irish incomprehensible — 
these simple creatures/^ who, when their self- 
constituted judges think they understand them 
well, suddenly appear in a new light, putting to 
flight all the wise theories of superior minds. 

Mrs. Gillman sincerely pitied the childless 
mother, but ere she could decide how to show 
her sympathy most acceptably, Nancy came to 
her relief by quietly resuming her work; her 
voice still faltering as she apologized for her 
tediousness.^^ 

I'm come now to the part of my story I don't 
like to think about, much less to tell," she re- 
sumed mournfully, an' yet there's hardly a day 
I rise off of my bed that I don't think of it. The 
time of the famine come, I've told you some- 
thin' about that before, but oh ! ma'am dear, who 
can ever tell you of it as it ought to be told ! 
O, them dark, sorrowful daj^-s ! can I ever forget 
them? AVhen Dennis an' myself were strivin' 
to earn somethin' to keep the breath in the poor 
children, that we would lay down our lives for ; 
an' they pinin' away — the four darlints — an' goin’ 
one after another from our arms to the cold 


80 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


grave ; an’ when the last of them was gone, Den- 
nis just took me to his heart, an' we cried an' 
begged of the Lord of glory to take us along 
wid them. But it wasn't His holy will; for 
though the sickness fell upon us^ an' — Heaven be 
merciful to us both — we never tried to get well, 
but hoped we were done wid the hard world that 
wouldn't spare enough to keep the life in even 
one of our weeny darlints — still we lived through 
it. We lived through all the sorrow and want an' 
sickness; how, neither of us could tell if ye were 
to give us a room full of gold for the tellin' — no 
more could any of the others that was brought 
alive through that time of woe. 'Twas the will 
of God, maybe, that some would be spared — 
there's no counting for it else. 

But Norry ! my poor Norry ! how can I bear 
to tell of her ? Want pressed her sore, as it did 
the rest; but, maybe, it went harder wid her 
than wid others, for she was always delicate- 
like, for all she was so stirrin' ; an' so the parents 
an' the husband always petted her as they would 
a child. An' maybe the right sense left her when 
•she saw her bahy fade away and draw its last 
breath. It was the first of them to go, for the 
starvin' mother had no milk for it, but others 
soon followed, 'till at last there was only the one 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 81 

girl left — my own Mary — and this Eobert. An’ 
Mary was down wid the sickness, and so was the 
father, strong man as he was, he was now weak 
and helpless as any infant, with fever burning up 
what little of life was left in him; as for Norry 
and the ould folks they had little heart or 
strength to nurse Andy an’ the child Mary, an’ 
neither food nor medicine to give them.” 

‘^Oh, Nancy, this is heart-rending to think 
of,” said Mrs. Gillman, sadly. 

‘^It is, ma’am; then, what must it have been 
to see it wid one’s own eyes ? And still there 
were some — aye, plenty of them — that saw it all, 
saw more than tongue can ever tell ; an’ without 
havin’ their hard hearts melted at the sight, 
when — But Lord save us from judging them ! It 
isn’t for us to sit in judgment on them that op- 
pressed the starvin’ poor.” 

But such people were a disgrace to humanity, 
Nancy. Their cruelty should not have been 
allowed.” 

<^True for ye again, ma’am, but who was to 
hinder? Sure they were the rich, an’ the great, 
an’ them that was in power. Not all of them, 
thank God, not all ! But them that was willin’ 
to give, an’ did give, as far forth as their means 
would allow, what could they do among so many, 


82 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

when the ones that was best able to help stood 
aloof. There was Mister Miller that had the 
same place Mister Gillman has now. Sure it 
was in his power to save hundreds, for he had 
the ear of Lord Woolcut an^ of plenty others 
that would give through him or through his wife 
when they wouldn't through another; but never 
a morsel of bread nor a drop of medicine either 
of them gave except to the poor creatures that 
bartered their souls for it. Whoever promised 
they'd come here to church, they got enough to 
keep them livin', for mighty sorry he'd be to lose 
one of his convarU; an' woe's me to tell of it, he 
had a lot of them at last, for when the worst 
come an' there was no chance at all for them, 
some of the weak creatures were ready, to listen 
to liis smooth talk, an' sell their souls for what 
would keep the life in them. 

I'm not meaning any disrespect to your church, 
ma'am," 'Nancy went on, as she saw Mrs. Gill- 
man's cheek flush hotly. Like enough its dear 
to ye; an' his reverence, beyond a doubt, would 
like to gather a big congregation around him, 
but he'd never value the conversions that was 
made through hunger. He'd never be the one to 
say to the starvin', ^ Come to my church, an' I'll 
give ye a crust, or a bowl of soup, but if ye 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 83 

remain Papists I can do nothin^ for ye/ Its not 
yer husband, ma’am — blessins on his kind heart 
an’ on yer own as well — that would be actin’ as 
Parson Miller an’ most of his cloth did at that 
time.” 

He would scorn such wicked meanness,” 
said Mrs. Gillman, indignantly. ^'How could 
any Christian man or woman act so barbarously ?” 

Then, many a man an’ woman was found to 
do it, and a great name they earned wid some for 
their zeal, but as for being Christian, we won’t 
trouble them wid the name.” 

But I wonder that many were found to ac- 
cept aid on this condition, Nancy, so attached as 
the Irish are to their religion, I should think it 
would be impossible — but I can’t tell — ” 

“No more you can’t, ma’am; it’s hard to tell 
what we’d do till the trial comes I’m not ex- 
cusin’ or defindin’ the renegades — God forbid 
that I should, for their sin was an awful one. 
But just think how ’twould be with ye, ma’am, if 
you was to see the children that ye’d give yer 
heart’s blood for, wastin’ away to skin an’ bone 
before yer eyes ; wid their little faces so pinched 
wid the want an’ the cold, turned on ye so sor- 
rowful like, axin’ for the bit or the sup ye hadn’t 
to give them; an’ maybe an ould father or a tender 


84 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

mother to the fore, an^ hunger an^ misery joining 
hands wid ould age to hurry them all the faster 
away from you to the grave — think what a sight 
to be lookin^ at day after day, an’ no hope of re- 
lief but the one the tempter held out An’ so 
’twas no wonder, though sin an’ shame, that 
many who’d go through fire an’ water for the 
Church, (an’ there’s no true Irishman or woman 
that wouldn’t) at this time forgot their duty; an’ 
among the rest my poor Norry an’ all belongin’ 
to her, at least it was said that Andy died a Pro- 
testant ; but each time Father Dillon went to see 
him, he found him ravin’ mad wid the fever, and 
so it was with him, some folks said, up to the 
very minute of his death. Anyhow the minister 
claimed him for his convert, an’ Norry had nothin’ 
to say agin’ it; so he buried him in the church- 
yard up here — where no one belongin’ to him 
lay — an’ preached over him, ’tis said, a grand 
sermon, tollin’ all about his conversion, an’ how 
happy he was in dyin’ to think he’d come to the 
knowledge of the gospel, an’ so on; the sermon 
lasted for an hour or more, an’ how much truth 
was in it was best known to the parson himself 
An’ the same way he did over little Mary; 
though she was too young, the darlint, to under- 
stand his talk about religion. He used to sit 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 85 

talkin^ to her by the hour, an’ IVe not a doubt 
that she listened to him mild an’ dutiful-like, for 
she was always a mannerly child. But how 
much she was convartedj might be known by her 
axin’ Mrs. Brown to say her beads for her, an’ 
them was amost the last words she spoke ; an’ to 
the last she kept a fast hold of the little red beads 
that his Keverence had given to her only the 
Christmas before — ’twas Mrs. Brown herself that 
told me, an’ sure she wouldn’t put a turn in it.” 

I don’t believe she would,” said Mrs. Gill 
man ; but how happened it, Nancy, that you 
were not with your friend Norry — ” 

“An’ so I would, ma’am,” interrupted Nancy ; 
“ but all this happened at the time of my own 
trial, when I wasn’nt able to do any good for 
myself, let alone another. ’Twas I that was 
grieved to the heart when I come to find how it 
had been wid the Costhellos, an’ to think my 
Mary wasn’t layin’ in consecrated ground along 
wid her four brothers and sisters. I was wild 
when I heard of it. Och, if I had been about at 
the time, no parson would have — ” Here Nancy 
checked herself, in deference to her auditor, and 
added, with a sigh of resignation, “’Tis little 
differ’, after all, where we’re put, I suppose, if 
the soul goes right, an’ her’s went straight to 
glory — the purty, innocent little darlint !” 


86 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

So the help came too late to save the poor 
woman’s husband or child,” said Mrs. Gillman, 
mournfully. 

Too late to save either of them, or to save 
poor ^orry herself. She was weakened down by 
sorrow an’ want ; an’ now, havin’ no peace of 
mind, (for how could she have it ?) she wasn’t 
able to gather strength ; though, to give the 
parson an’ his wife their due, they saw that she 
had every attention paid to her ; but ’twas all no 
use. She kept on her feet for a time, but had no 
longer heart for anything; ’twas seldom she 
spoke to her ould parents, an’ as for others, no 
word, good, bad or indifferent, could they draw 
from her : she just looked at them as if she didn’t 
know they were talkin’, wid a hard, cold stare 
in the black eyes that used to be so soft an’ so 
sparklin’; an’ soon she took to her bed an’ never 
riz from it again. Father Dillon went more than 
once to try to bring her back to the church 
she had unfortunately strayed away from; an’ 
sure if anybody could do anything wid her, he 
could, wid his kind, fatherly way, an’ the blessin’ 
that Heaven gives to his labors; but she never 
seemed to mind him, only looked at him in that 
strange way, an’ he said — God bless him ! ’tis 
always the good word or the charitable excuse 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 87 

he has for every one — he said she was out of her 
mind, an’ like enough she was. 

mind well the last time I saw her,” re- 
sumed Nancy, after a long pause. I was weak 
an’ tremblin’, for ’t wasn’t long after I riz from 
the bed of sickness, an’ I hadn’t yet been outside 
the door: but somebody told me that Norry 
was dyin’ — the doctor said she had not many 
hours to live — an’ dyin’ out of the Church ! that 
was hardest of all, I got one of the neighbors to 
help me along, an’ went every step of the way to 
her cabin, prayin’ I might be in time, for I 
thought the ould love that was between us 
would help me to win her back to the right way. 
They said she would not know me, but she did — ^ 
as I knew she would — she knew me the minute I 
took her hand to kiss her, an’ for a time she 
looked at me wid somethin’ of the old look — 
’twas all that was left to make me know she was 
the same — for oh ! she was changed in every 
feature, an’ nothin’ left of the handsome, bloomin’ 
face I remember so well. Ah, we were all 
changed, every man an’ woman of us, by that 
time of woe, but Norry worse than all. But I 
saw that her heart was still the same, an’ oh ! 
didn’t I plead wid her, an’ beg her on my bended 
knees to think of her poor soul, an’ let his 


88 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUOHT; 


Eeverence come to prepare her to meet her God ! 
But, woe^s me ! the only answer I could get from 
her was ‘ too late ! too late !’ an’ the look that 
she gave me when she said it I can never forget. 
I never saw her again, for the sorrow an’ the dis- 
appointment together was too much for me^ 
weak as I was. I fainted dead away alongside 
of her, an’ they had to get me home the best 
way they could. Before I was able to leave the 
house again, it was all over, an’ Norry was buried 
wid her husband an’ little Mary in the church- 
yard there beyond — my own, own Norry that I 
loved ! an’ I can’t even say ‘ God be merciful to 
her soul !’ ” 

At this point Nancy, who with difficulty con- 
trolled her emotion thus far, broke down com- 
pletely, and gave way to a vehement and long 
continued burst of grief. At length looking up 
with an air of mingled timidity and defiance, as 
if expecting that she had excited the scorn of 
her auditor by her closing regret, she saw with 
surprise that she and her sister, who had joined 
them some time previously unperceived by 
Nancy, had been silently weeping with her. 
‘^The Lord bless you for them tears!” she ex- 
claimed, her own falling again, but with a calmed 
flow, at the unexpected sympathy. You know 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 89 

nothing of this trial, ladies, but oh, ^tis the hard- 
est of all trials. There^s comfort in prayin’ for 
the dead that none but a Catholic can know. 
To think that you can still do somethin’ for them 
that’s gone from you, and carried half your heart 
away wid them — that ye can relieve them if 
they’re in punishment waitin’ an’ sufferin’ till 
they be purified from the last defilement, an’ made 
worthy to dwell forever wid the Lord of glory — to 
know that you can pray for them as often as you 
will, an’ offer up in their behalf a fast or some good 
work, which He, who is all mercy will accept in 
His great goodness, an’ shorten by so much the 
time of their banishment — isn’t this a great com- 
fort to the broken-hearted and the sorrowful? 
praise, honor an’ glory be to Him that taught His 
Church the doctrine of purgatory an’ prayer for 
the faithful departed. ’Tis a grand thing, ladies, 
but oh, it is a sad thing an’ a heart-breakin’ 
grief, when them you love, has put it out of your 
power to help them after death, by dyin’ in a 
state of sin ! Then, they’re not among the faith- 
ful departed — ^you can do nothin’ for them, art’ 
this is the sore thought for a Catholic to feel.^^ 

I can imagine something of it,” said Mrs. 
Gillman, for though I do not believe that prayer 
can benefit the dead, still it is a pretty doctrine, 
and a consoling one to those who believe in it.” 


90 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

For my part/^ said Clara, I believe it, and 
think it a great pity that the Eeformers did not 
include it among the articles of faith. I often 
envy Catholics the exclusive possession of this 
most beautiful and touching doctrine; and I 
know if I were one, this is the tenet to which I 
would cling most tenaciously.^' 

May the Lord grant you the comfort of un- 
derstandin' an’ believin' all the doctrines of the 
Church, Miss Clara," exclaimed ^^ancy fervently, 
her broad, good-natured face all aglow with plea- 
sure, and her eyes glistening through their tears. 

’Tis myself that would like to see you a Catho- 
lic, an' a good one you'd be, I know. Faith, I 
believe you’d soon come up to Miss Margaret 
herself, an' sure she’s a saint all out. 'Tis pleasant 
to see the two of you so often together, an' do 
you know, Miss, I think you're very much alike." 

O thank you — thank you a thousand times, 
Nancy,” said Clara, laughing pleasantly. One 
must come to Ireland if one wants pretty com- 
pliments, I see. Do you know that in all the 
time I spent in my country, I don't think I re- 
ceived so many compliments as you have con- 
trived to pay me now.” 

Why, then, that was a shame for your 
country.pcople, an’ showed their want of taste 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 91 


an’ good manners/’ said Nancy, joining in the 
laugh ; but never fear that you’ll be in want of 
compliments from this out. Everybody is sayin’ 
’twas a bright day for Bartrymore when it first 
saw you, not forgettin’ Mister Gillman an’ the 
mistress here as well. Very little we guessed 
what sort of ladies wo were goin’ to have, an’ 
as for the gentleman — long life to him ! — he sur- 
prised us entirely.” 

1 believe that” said Mrs. Gillman, smiling. 

Why, then, you may believe the rest as well,” 
interrupted Nancy. 

O, I may think some of your compliments 
unmerited, you know; but from all I hear of my 
husband’s predecessor, I can easily imagine that 
you looked forward with something of dread of 
what the new curate might prove, and have 
been agreeably disappointed in him.” 

<^That we are,” said Nancy, with emphasis. 

There’s scarce one to be found in the place that 
wouldn’t speak up for him, if need were : in fact, 
they all think there’s but one thing wantin’ to 
him.” 

What is that?” Mrs. Gillman put the ques- 
tion with some anxiety. 

An’ that is to be a Catholic, instead of a 
Protestant, an’ the same to ye all.” 


92 THE CONFESSOKS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Oh said Mrs. Gillman, laughing, yet a little 
vexed, might have known that you would 
say that.^^ 

What else could I say, ma'am ? Ask who 
you will, from the priest down, an' you'll get 
but the one answer, that they wouldn't have his 
Reverence other than he is, save in that one 
thing." 

^^They are not likely to be gratified, Nancy." 

‘‘Well, then, J'm not sure of that — the Lord 
has His own wise ways of bringin' things about." 

“ Very true; but suppose He should not wish 
to bring this particular thing about ?" said Mrs. 
Gillman, much amused at Nancy's earnestness. 
“ I really think you will all have to be good 
enough to like Mr. Gillman as he is, though, of 
course, your wish is a very good one as you un- 
derstand it, and we're very much obliged to you 
for the kind feeling that dictated it." 

“You're welcome to it, ma'am, an’ to our 
prayers as well. Arrah, Miss, don't you be 
lookin' so roguish an' so unbelievin' like. Do ye 
think we're so remiss in our duty as to neglect 
prayin' for our benefactors ? I didn’t think ye 
had such a poor opinion of us. Miss Clara, dear." 

“ But praying for your benefactors has nothing 
to do with your praying for us," laughed Clara. 


OR, THE TENANTS OP A LORD BISHOP. 93 

^‘Hasn’t it, then? We^re the best judges of 
that, wid due respect for you, Miss. ^Twas no 
longer ago than last night that I heard a prayer, 
and indeed more than one, uttered for a certain 
young lady that broke the fall a little child was 
gettin' down a hill. That same child would 
have its bones broke or be killed outright, maybe, 
if it had rolled off of the hill in among the rocks 
an^ slates at the foot of it, an’ nothin’ was to 
hinder, only the lady goin’ by that had the fore- 
sight an’ the courage to grasp the child when 
another minute would be too late. You wouldn’t 
tell me. Miss Clara, that the mother wasn’t 
prayin’ for her benefactor when she asked the 
blessed Mother of God (<» reward her who had no 
thought of danger to herself, oi: of damage to her 
elegant clothes, or of anything on earth to save 
the poor dirty ragged gossoon, that most ladies 
would pass by without mindin.’ ” 

They’d be monsters, unworthy the name of 
woman,” said Clara, whose color had heightened 
considerably during Nancy’s narration. 

Just then Mrs. Gillman, who had been absent 
in the kitchen, returned. 

‘^Now while I think of it, Nancy,” said she, 
^^was it during the famine time that old Mr. 
Egan — our sexton, you know — became a Pro- 
testant ?” 


94 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

O no, ma’am, ’twas several years before that 
that he turned. The old villain hadn’t that ex- 
cuse. It wasn’t that made him forsake his 
church; but he thought it more respectable-like 
to be a Protestant An’ Mister Miller encouraged 
him, of course, an’ like as not promised him the 
place of sexton; anyway he got it soon after 
turning, an’ has held on to it ever since. He 
was a tailor before that.” 

<‘His wife died several years ago, I under- 
stand.” 

She did, ma’am. Poor creature ! she had a 
hard life wid him, for he’s a cantankerous sort 
of man as ye’d find, though you may not think 
it, for he’s very mealy mouthed an’ submissive 
in the presence of his betters.” 

‘^!No wonder the bishop is partial to him,” 
whispered Mrs. Gillman to her sister. 

Nancy, not hearing the whisper, went on. 
‘‘ Yes, his poor wife had a sad time of it, an’ I 
believe she was not sorry when her time come 
to leave this world.” 

‘^But on her children’s account?” suggested 
Mrs. Gillman. 

‘‘Well, ye see she had no more control over 
them than anybody goin’ along the road. He 
petted them an’ punished them just accordin’ to 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 95 

the humor he was in ; she dare not do either ; if 
they did the best thing in the world is wasn't for 
her to praise or reward them, nor to check them, 
if they were goin' wrong. The mother was no- 
thin' to them, the father every thing." 

I don't like him altogether," said Mrs. Gill- 
man, ^‘but his son seems to be a fine, steady 
young man." 

<^The schoolmaster you're meaning, ma'am? 
Then I doubt but he's the worst of the two, for 
all he's so mild and smooth-spoken." 

Clara laughed; the schoolmaster did not stand 
high in her estimation evidently. Mrs. Gillman 
gave her a warning look, for imprudent as she 
was apt to be in speaking out her opinion, she 
had an idea her sister was still more so. To 
change the subject she referred again to Norry 
Costello, and Expressed her satisfaction that one 
of her children was spared, and was likely to be 
a useful member of society. 

differ with you, sister," said Clara. 
think Eobert Costello is the worst boy in the 
school, or in the town either, by what I know of 
it's boys." 

Give me you for judgment," chimed in Nancy, 
heartily. You lee. Miss Clara, the boy is un- 
known to Mistress Gillman, an’ she judges of 
him by what the schoolmaster says, an' — 


96 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Not exactly, Nancy. I judge by what Mr. 
Gillman tells me, and he has a high opinion of 
the boy.^^ 

‘^Formed upon what the teacher and the 
sexton say/^ rejoined Clara. The youth seems 
fond of study; other merit than that I really 
think he has none. He is not truthful, as the 
elder Mr. Egan, with all his partiality, is obliged 
to admit.^^ 

“ He has not admitted it to my husband, for 
that one trait would suffice to make any youth 
odious in his estimation.!^ 

In his capacity of Monitor,^^ continued Clara, 
^^he is very domineering over the boys; not 
rough or impatient with them, as one would 
think, from his age. He has rather the cool 
malice and unrelenting severity of the old style 
pedagogue.^' 

Quite a pleasant picture, said Mrs. Gillman, 
laughing. You are sure you have not put in 
too much shade, Clara.^^ 

There is much more shadow than light in 
his character, I fear. If you were to see his 
manner toward his aged grandmother, Emily, 
you would feel like boxing his ears. Poor crea- 
ture ! she is very feeble and not likely to remain 
much longer a burden to him, for such he evi- 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 97 

dently considers her, and makes her feel that he 
does. With his grandfather he is different, 
having probably some fear of him/' 

^‘Do they come often to church — the old 
couple asked Nancy, who had stopped her 
work, and was listening with lively interest. 

No. I have not seen the old man there since 
the first Sunday after our arrival. His wife 
comes sometimes — by the-by, Emily, we must go 
to see her. She is going down to the grave very 
fast, I think, though Dr. Hunter says she will 
outlive her husband, who is likely to drop off 
suddenly at any moment." 

“ Dear — dear ! Who'd think of it, now? " said 
Nancy. ^^To be sure the doctor is like to be 
right in his thinkin', for he has the power of 
knowledge, that same doctor, an' a good man he 
is among the poor." 

But he is a Protestant, Nancy," said Mrs. 
Gillman, slyly. 

« So ho is, ma'am, but he's not a runagade 
Catholic — that makes all the difference in the 
world," was the quick rejoinder. But I'm 
sorry for what he says of old man Blake. I'd 
like he'd get time to repent; but, indeed, there's 
a queer look about him lately." 

I have noticed it," said Clara. I pity the 


96 THE CONFESSOES OF CONNAUGHT; 

old man, but I fancy he would not thank me for 
the feeling/^ 

That he wouldn’t, Miss ; you’ve just got the 
right notion of him. He was always cold an’ 
distant in his way, wid as little to do wid any- 
body as he could, so that he was liked by few. 
Not but he did a good turn when he was asked 
to, but ’twas in such a cold way that a body 
would as soon he’d leave it alone. But he was 
the truth of an honest man in every sense, an’ a 
true-spoken one ; it’s a pity Eobert doesn’t take 
after him in that respect, as he does in some 
others. His wife wasn’t a bit like him. She 
was pleasant an’ open-minded, wid a smile or a 
^save you kindly,’ for every one. An’ Norry 
took after her; there was nothin’ of the father 
in her.” Nancy paused a moment, and added, 
musingly, Though, indeed, now that I think of 
it, maybe ’twas his own stiff, stubborn way she 
was showin’ when she thought people turned 
against her for leavin’ the church.” 

^^Very probably,” said Clara. ‘^Old Blake 
has just the same manner you described in 
Norry.” 

“ Yes, yes, that was just it, an’ it never oc- 
curred to me before. I never see the old folks 
now, for since he got past workin’ in his bit of 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 99 

ground, an^ that^s moreen a year ago, he’s in- 
doors all the time, an’ he never liked visitors 
even in his best days. I used to drop in to see 
her before that, for I always liked her, an’ she was 
fond of me, I believe, next to her own ISTorry. 
Poor soul ! she never gave in willingly to the 
change of religion, I know ; but the old man had 
passed his word to the minister, as well as Norry 
had to his wife, before they got the help. An’ it 
was always said that Eobert Blake’s word was 
as good as another man’s oath or bond. Very 
like ’twas that that made him as well as Norry 
turn a deaf ear to his Eeverence whenever he 
spoke to them about it, for they wouldn’t want 
to deny him in so many words, an’ neither would 
they go back from their promise. But poor 
mother Blake always cries at the mention of the 
old Faith, an’ well I know her heart is right if 
she dare to do as she wants, but she was always 
led by her husband, an’ ’tisn’t in their old age 
she’d begin to oppose him.” 

<^Now, Nancy, I just want you to tell me one 
thing,” said Mrs. Giilman, with much earnest- 
ness. I see you are trying to make excuses for 
your friends, whom you still deem guilty of a 
great crime. I find no fault with either of these 
feelings — both are natural — but how is it that 


100 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

yon are so hard on Norry's child ? You don't 
try to excuse him at all/' 

Because I can't, ma'am, to my sorrow. An’ 
bein’ Worry's child makes me think the harder 
of him, maybe, for he's so unlike what a child of 
her’s ought to be, or of Andy's either, for that 
matter. An' they were both so proud of that 
boy, ma'am ; he was the oldest of their children, 
an' always showed a turn for learnin' ; they had 
such hopes of what he'd grow up to be — an' now 
look at him !" 

But I fancy that if he went back to your 
Church, Nancy, you would not think his faults 
so very henious." 

You would palliate them in that case, would'nt 
you?" said Clara, as she saw a covert smile 
playing around Nancy's mouth. 

Why I'd know that he would have to strive 
to mind them, so that it wouldn't be fair or right 
to be too hard upon them." 

<^Oh, ho, you're caught at last," said Mrs. 
Gillman, with a hearty laugh. I knew all the 
time that 'tis because of his religion you are so 
much against poor Eobert — but why don't you 
find an excuse for his apostacy as well as for that 
of the others ? That's what puzzles me." 

^‘Well, ril tell you ma'am; there was some 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 101 

excuse for them in the temptation they had, an' 
afterwards in the shame that kept them from / 
acknowledgin' they were in the wrong. But 
there could be no excuse for the boy either then 
or ever since, for bein' young — " 

‘^That's it," interrupted Mrs. Gillman. ^^He 
was young and could not be supposed to have 
the same attachment to his creed as those who 
had grown up in it and understood its doctrines. 
So that if you think them in any way excusable, 
he must be more so on account of his youth and 
ignorance." 

^^Not a bit of it, askin' your ladyship's pardon 
for contradictin' ye. He was old enough to know 
his religion, an' he did know it. Hadn't he his 
catechism from beginnin' to end, besides readin' 
ever so many fine religious books; for he was 
always after the books, an' 'twas serious ones he 
liked best. (He got that from the grandfather, 
who never had any fun in him, as they say that 
knew him from the cradle up.) But over an' 
above all the rest, he was confirmed the very 
year before all this happened, an' was under in- 
structions for his first communion when he was 
led astray." 

But he was led astray, as you deem it, Nancy ; 
he didn't go voluntarily. That ought to excuse 
him if he was wrong." 


102 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Yes, but not for his obstinacy in holdin' to 
the wrong afterwards There^s where I blame 
him, ma'am, dear. Didn’t he refuse to hearken 
to his Keverence, or to Mistress Brown? She 
was his Catechism teacher, an’ took a great in- 
terest in the boy, as indeed everybody did at the 
time. But the minister got a firm hold on him 
wid his palaver an’ his bribes, an’ my fine lad 
had got to think it a disgrace to be a Catholic. 
Sure he told Mistress Brown so, an’ that he was 
glad his father an’ mother were buried in a 
decent churchyard, an’ not amongst the low, 
ignorant, miserable Papists. You don’t like that 
in him, ma’am. Think of such impudence to a 
lady like Mistress Brown, an’ the talkin’ to him 
for his own good. ’Twas when there was to be 
confirmation up here, and nothin’ would do for 
Master Eobert but he must go wid the rest. 
There was several of them goin’, and faith there 
was plenty to look at them that they didn’t ex- 
pect,” — and Nancy broke off with a chuckle of 
suppressed merriment. 

When was that ?” asked Mrs. Gillman, 
glancing significantly at her sister, as the re- 
membrance of the consolatory” visit occurred 
to both. 

I guess it was nigh upon three years ago. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 103 

They had a great congregation, for a crowd of 
our folks went, just to make sure that Eobert 
Costello was among them that was confirmed, 
for he was the talk of the whole place, seein' it 
was but a short time since he received the right 
of confirmation — no offence to you, ladies,^^ added 
the washerwoman, with a civil turn ; you don't 
make much of confirmation in your church, I 
believe ; but wid us 'tis a holy Sacrament, that 
requires a great preparation, an' can only be 
received once in a life-time." 

suppose Eobert thought a good thing 
couldn't be done too often," said Clara. But, 
Nancy, I thought Catholics were not allowed to 
attend the religious services of other denomina- 
tions." 

‘^No more they're not, Miss, 'tis yourself is 
right; but, you know, curiosity gets the better of 
us sometimes, an’ so it was wid them. 'Twas a 
fine Sunday besides, an' the confirmation was 
given just as our people was goin' home from 
Vespers, an' so a lot of them must go in an' see 
how it was done; an' how his lordship looked; 
an' above all, if that hoy would have the face to 
present himself for confirmation." 

‘‘And had he?" asked Clara, in pretended 
wonder. 


104 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


He had, Miss ; an^ ye’d think butter wouldn’t 
melt in his mouth, he looked so pious and holy ; 
so some of our boys said; an’ they said, too, that 
they’d rather than all the fun of the year to have 
a chance to groan him — -the young hypocrite ! 
But the best of all, they said, was to see how his 
lordship looked an’ hear him talk; for he was as 
pleasant as the flowers of May, seein’ such a 
great congregation about him. Faith, some of 
them thought they’d die wid tryin’ to hold in the 
laugh, when they saw how took in he was; (that 
had never occurred to them before they went 
in ;) an’ how big the minister looked. I warrant 
he never let on to Lord Woolcut but that was 
his regular flock.” 

I don’t believe he did,” said Clara, exchanging . 
a glance of amusement with her sister, and the 
washerwoman was surprised to find that they 
thought the affair ‘ so divarting.’ 



CHAPTEE VI. 


The O’Loughlins. 



HAT a pretty girl that is crossing 
the field/^ said Mrs. Gillman, one 
washing day. ‘‘ Who is she, 
Nancy 




She’s one of the O’Loughlins/^ 
said Nancy, giving a look in the 
direction indicated, the oldest 


daughter of Machael and Kathleen O’Loughlin — 
Kathleen is her name, though it’s Katy most 
people call her. A pretty girl she is, as you say, 
an’ as good as she is pretty.’ 

You are great on the goodness, Nancy,’’ 
said the lady, laughing. 

Why not, ma’am ? Sure its little use the 
beauty would be without it.” 

True enough, Nancy. But who are the 
O’Loughlins? I don’t think I have heard of 
them, so I suppose the children don’t come to 
our schools.” 


( 105 ). 


106 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Nancy made a gesture as of scorn at the idea, 
and replied, They are a decent family as you 
could find, both old an^ young of them. To be 
sure it is not wid them now as it was once, for 
they were well to do, an^ had full an' plenty, an' 
to spare ; an' spare they did to all that wanted 
it; no man, woman or child ever went cold or 
hungry from their door." 

How came they to get poor ? — through drink, 
I'm afraid.'^ 

Drink !" echoed Nancy, with indignant em- 
phasis. That's more than can be thrown up to 
any one of the O'Loughlins. They wasn't of 
that sort, ma'am. Sure I remember the grand- 
father well, the Heavens be his bed. An' ’twas 
only the other day, I may say, that the father 
died, a hale, hearty, fine-looking old man that 
you'd love to look at, wid' all the white hair 
shinin' like silver about his face that was smooth 
an' fresh-colored as a young man's. God be 
good an' merciful to him, as he is, for if the 
prayers of the poor are a help to the soul — as 
we know they are — his wasn't in want of them. 
There was scarcely a dry eye in the parish the 
day of his funeral, an* such a funeral ! Musha, 
but many a richer man would be proud to have 
the like.'* 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 107 

^^Was it since his death they became poor?^^ 
asked Mrs. Gillman, persistently coming back to 
the first point. 

^^Well, they are not exactly what might be 
called poor, ma^am, though His poor compared to 
what they ought to be. They have the same old 
place — it’s one of Lord Woolcut^s best farms — 
but they have to let a good part of the ground of 
late— 

Which is so much the better for them, if they 
make the most of what remains. Mr. Gillman 
says that he thinks Irishmen in general under- 
take more acres than they can cultivate properly, 
and so, pa3dng rent for ground which yields not 
half so much as it should, it is no wonder that 
they get behind hand.’^ 

‘‘ There^s sense in what you’re sayin’ ma’am, 
never a doubt. But you see, people that come of 
an old stock like the O’Loughlins, don’t want to 
have only a shabby bit of land. An’ if there’s a 
corner of a field here and there idle, or maybe a 
whole field, sure it comes good for some poor 
man or woman that hasn’t as much ground to 
their cabin as would grow a peck of potatoes. 
Many’s the stone of potatoes dug in that way 
from Michael O’Loughlin’s land, not to speak of 
the fine heads of cabbage an’ the lots of turnips 
an’ parsnips.” 


108 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


Of course, these people pay something for 
the use of the ground/' 

Is it to the O'Loughlins cried Nancy, with 
a look of horror, that made Mrs. Gillman almost 
fancy for a moment that she had advanced some 
shocking proposition. Why, then, 'twould ill 
become them to be hard on the poor an’ dis- 
tressed. To be sure there's farmers that gets a 
trifle for the use of their ground, as you say, 
mostly paid in labor, but not the likes of the 
O’Loughlins ; they would never demean the name 
that's on them by such sere win.' ’' 

If they have acted in other respects as 
foolishly, I no longer wonder that they get re- 
duced," said the curate's wife, with some vexa- 
tion in her look and tone. I like people to be 
charitable; indeed, I consider it a solemn duty — 
^^Sure, you've showed that since you come 
amongst us," put in Nancy. 

But I believe in being charitable according 
to one's means; not in giving without stint or 
measure." 

“ That's the way the O'Loughlins give, then. 
They knew that what they gave to the poor they 
were lendin' to the Lord, an' 'tisn't keepin' ac- 
count of what they lend to Him they'd be. 
They'll never be the losers in the long run " 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 109 

Well, if they are satisfied rm sure I ought to 
be. But, Nancy, all this time you have not told 
me how it happened that they got down in the 
world. I am very much afraid there is some- 
thing wrong about them, or you would not be so 
backward in telling their history.'' 

That there isn't, then," said Nancy stoutly. 
^^No one livin' or dead could accuse Michael 
O'Loughlin of wrong doin', that is, if they told 
the truth; of course, they could belie him as well 
as another, but that would be to themselves. 
An' as for the way he got poorer, 'twould be 
hard for me to tell just how it was, for there was 
more than one thing the cause of it. First of all 
there was the burthen of another family put on 
him along wid his own, after his older brother, 
Daniel, was turned out of his own place. A fine 
place it was, too, as I've heard tell, for I never 
saw it myself, for 'twas a good distance from 
here. Daniel voted against his landlord's candi- 
date, an' so lost his land; an’ he made up his 
mind he wouldn't stay in Ireland, but would go 
out to Meriky, where he could get a little farm 
of his own that no one could turn him out of, nor 
his children after him. Oh, what a place it must 
be, ma'am, that same Meriky — Heaven's bles- 
sin' rest on it ever an' always! — 'tis a grand 
country entirely ! 


110 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


So Daniel sold his cattle an’ all he had except 
feather beds an’ the like, that they would take 
wid them in the ship, an’ they come to see the 
father, (for the mother was dead an’ gone long 
before, the Lord be good to her !) before they’d 
set sail. The father was loth to have them go^ 
an’ so was the grandfather, an’ as for Michael, 
he set his face against it from the start. But 
when he found it was all no use, ^ anyhow,’ says 
he, ‘ if you will go, at least leave your family wid 
us ; for it’s like enough that you’l 1 be for cornin’ 
back, an’ it will be easier for youself to come 
than if you have a wife an’ six children along.’ 
< There’s reason in what he says, an’ be said by 
him,’ the father pleaded ; so the long an’ short of 
it was that he left five of the children wid them, 
but the wife wouldn’t stay behind for any coaxin’. 
An’ they went — takin’ their oldest boy along — 
an’ ma’am dear, that was the last ever seen of 
them in this world, for the ship was lost at sea 
an’ wid it every one on board. Heaven be good 
an’ merciful to them, poor souls ! ’twas in search 
of a good home they Avere goin’, the most of them, 
an’ sure enough they found the best of all. Oh, 
but it was a sad day wid the O’Loughlins when 
the news come, an’ wid others besides, for many 
a one had friends or relations on board, but I 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. Ill 

needn^t talk of the grief, for you know well what 
it was without the tellin\ Anyway, the O'Lough- 
lins took comfort in havin^ the children safe, 
though, of course, they had to do for them now, 
for all their parents’ means was lost wid them- 
selves. But the little creatures never felt the 
want of it, neither did they know what it was to 
be orphans, except it might be they’d miss the 
mother-love that no other love on earth can ever 
make up for — for sure the mother’s love is most 
like that of God himself — praise, honor and glory 
be to His holy name. So as I was sayin’, Michael 
was like a father to his brother’s children from 
that day out, an’ his jewel of a wife — she was one 
of the Morrissy’s, of Clooneen, an’ fine people 
they are — she was mother as well as aunt to 
them, as far forth as a good heart would let her. 
She had three little ones of her own then, an’ the 
eight grew up together like brothers an’ sisters ; 
an’ when other children was born, it still made 
no difference wid the orphans. Small danger 
was there of them being crowded out of the love 
of the uncle and aunt, for the more children come 
to them, the bigger grew their hearts to hold 
them all.” 

That’s a very good account of the O’Lough- 
lins, Nancy,” said the curate’s wife, in a hearty 


112 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


tone. I can look over all their improvidence 
now. In truth, with the closest economy, I 
don^t see that they could help going a little be- 
hindhand when they had so large a family to 
provide for in addition to their own.^^ 

^^An’ their own was ten — every one of ten 
children.’^ 

Ten !’^ echoed Mrs. Gillman. “ Mercy on 
me — what a family ! Fifteen children V* 

Sorra a one less V said Nancy, complacently. 
*^Ten children they had an' have yet wid them, 
barrin' one that's away at college, an' he'll soon 
be priested now, please God. So you see 'twas 
a long family entirely, an' nothin' was saved nor 
spared upon them, so as your ladyship says 'twas 
little wonder that things began not to go so well 
wid them. Then there was the bad seasons ; of 
course, they lost by them as well as others did ; 
an' next the famine, when they stinted them- 
selves to give to the naked an' the hungry, for 
it never was in one of their kind to see distress 
without wantin' to relieve it. An' after that 
was all past an' gone, the rent of their place was 
riz, (an' it was high enough before,) because, you 
see, they were among the foremost in standin' out 
against the soupers, an' keeping the weak an' the 
lukewarm from failin' into the trap laid for them. 


^ OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 113 

An’ why wouldn’t they ? Who would the priest 
of God — blessings on him ! — have to depend upon 
for backin’ him in every struggle for religion, if 

not them that’s left of the old stock whose fore- 

% 

fathers parted wid all they had on earth sooner 
than give up that same faith — the Lord increase 
it all over the world, as He is ! An’ that’s the 
way it happened wid the O’Loughlins, ma’am, 
an’ wid many besides.” 

^<And the orphans? — but of course they are 
grown up now. I hope they did well.” 

‘‘That they did. The oldest girl, Mary, a 
pretty colleen she was, got married to a great 
Councellor all the way from County Waterford. 
He come here wid a lot of fine ladies an’ gentle- 
men one summer, to see the beauty of the coun- 
try ’round about this; and faith, Mister Collins 
saw nothin’ so pleasin’ to him as Mary O’Lough- 
lin, an’ nothin’ would do but he must carry her 
home wid him, when he went in the autumn. 
He was a fine-looking gentleman, an’ a generous 
one, too, for when the uncle began to speak of 
the fortune he’d give wid her. Mister Collins de- 
clared he’d never take a pound of it, no, nor a 
penny ; let it go to her two twin sisters, or to the 
boys, but have it he wouldn’t. 'But when the 
uncle grew vexed-like, an’ told him no girl of his 


114 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


should go widout fortune to any man’s floor, he 
gave in an’ took the money, an’ what did he do 
but hand it over to Mary to keep for her brother 
Mark. They took him wid them to give good 
schoolin’ to, an’ now he’s a fine young fellow^ 
studyin’ law wid the Counsellor. So you see 
Mary did well for herself, ma’am.” 

She did, indeed,” said Mrs. Gillman, with a 
look of pleasure, and for her brother, too. I 
hope the twins did as well.” 

Faith an’ they did better,” said Nancy, with 
a chuckle, “ for they gave themselves to God, 
‘ an’ it’s two holy nuns they are now, shut out 
from this wicked world.” 

Mrs. Gillman’s smile of pleasure vanished ; her 
prejudices against nunneries, though vague, was 
none the less strong. 

But what became of the other one ?” she 
asked, after a pause. 

The other, he was the oldest of the five, an’ 
a fine, straight, handsome lad he grew to be, but 
that was no wonder, for all his kin are that same. 
There wasn’t a smarter nor a finer young fellow 
in the parish, first an’ foremost in every lark 
that was goin’ on, an’ yet as grave as the priest 
himself in the church. Och, it did a body good 
to see him serve at Mass — he was so sedate and 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 115 

respectful, an’ had such a graceful way wid him. 
He was a good scholar, too, for the priest, seein’ 
the thirst he had for Latin and such fine studies, 
instructed him himself, though indeed ’tis little 
time to spare the priests have — the Lord reward 
them ! — in places like this, where their flock is 
scattered about for miles among the mountains.” 

^^Well?” said Mrs. Gillman inquiringly, as 
Nancy made a long pause and went on with her 
work as if nothing more remained to he told, I 
hope you are not going to tell me that he is 
dead.” 

What would I be tellin’ you such a lie for, 
savin’ your presence, ma’am, an’ he livin’, though 
he’s far away from them that loves him, but 
please God ! one of these days they’ll have him 
back again. Well, you see, he was a flne youth, 
this William O’Loughlin — he was called after his 
grandfather — when Smith O’Brien, long life to 
him!” (the ejaculation having double emphasis 
as Mrs. Gillman frowned on hearing the name,) 
sure ’twas a pity that things turned out as they 
did ; but when he an’ the rest of the patriots were 
strivin’ to strike a blow for the dear old land, 
William joined the ^ Young Irelanders,’ an’ it was 
proved against him ; (not that he denied it, for 
he gloried in sufferin’ for his coiintry if he couldn’t 


116 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


fight for her;) so the end of it was they trans- 
ported him — the fine*, noble young man that he 
was. Oh; but it was a cruel thing to do.’' 

It was too good for him — the young traitor 
should have been hung,” said the curate’s wife in 
a tone Nancy had never heard from her before. 

It was false mercy in the British government 
to spare O’Brien and his band of traitors — they 
all richly deserved the halter.” 

Faith, then, ’twas little mercy they’d have 
got but for the dread the same government was 
in, I’m thinkin’. It knew better than to hang 
the brave gentlemen, when all the world, as one 
may say, was on their side.” 

And having thus defined her position,” the 
true hearted woman betook herself to hanging 
out her clothes before “ the enemy ” could re- 
spond. From that day Mrs. Gillman lost ground 
in Nancy’s good opinion. 



CHAPTER VLL. 

The Apostate’s Death-bed. 



Ft URRY on, Joe; sure we^ll never 
Dm get to the end of our road at this 


,rate.’’ 


“ Easy talking ! How can I hurry 
faster, with the wind in my teeth 
and the snow all's one as blinding 
me ? Bedad, I never seen such a 




place. In the pretty little town I came from we 
never have — may I never if he isn’t shooting 
ahead of me ! Listen to him, now ! — yes, I hear 
you, Larry Conner ; sure I'm making after you 
as fast as I can.” 

That was not very fast, however, for what 
with the driving wind, the blinding sleet, and 
the difficulty of following the rugged mountain 
path in the increasing darkness, the ^‘towns- 
man,” whose heart was none of the stoutest, nor 
his physical strength remarkable, felt his “ cou- 
rage” and his blood cooling rapidly. Ever and 


( 117 ) 


118 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

anon he was forced to stop and take breath, 
while the other, with undaunted step, strode 
onward like one to the'^ mountain born/^ 
Heaven help us and all poor travelers, said 
the stranger, as having joined Larry he trudged 
on wofully, ^tis a black and a bitter night/^ 
Black do ye call it, when the beautiful snow 
is waving a white winding-sheet over every- 
thing 

The Lord be between us and harm piously 
ejaculated Joe. «^Don't be talking of winding- 
sheets when maybe His in need of one we^ll be 
before the morning's dawn, Larry Conner.^^ 

It's froze stiff I'll be if we don't get to some 
shelter soon," said Joe, piteously, as after another 
pause to ^draw his breath' he was relentlessly 
hurried forward by his stout-hearted, sure-footed 
companion. Is it much further to yer house, 
Larry." 

^^ISTot much over a mile — a mile and a quarter 
at most." Joe groaned in despair. ^‘But my 
father's is nearer, if ye'd like to" — 

^‘Arrah, tell me when we come to the first 
place of shelter — the very first, won't you, Larry? 
I'll stop there for the night, if its only a pig-pen. 
Ugh, its worse the snow's getting ! There'll be 
neither hedge nor ditch to be seen by to-morrow 
morning if it keeps on this way." 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 119 

^^No, nor the roof of a cabin by to-morrow 
night/' was the iin sympathizing rejoinder. But 
if we're froze stiff before the morning’s dawn its 
little we'll care how deep the snow is." 

Whist, now ! Don't be going on wid you’re 
jokes an' your light talk; it's no triflin' danger 
we're in, take my word for it. The Lord bring 
us safe through." 

Amen !" said his tantalizing companion. 
^^But, I say, Joe Harrigan, if you're never in 
greater danger than now, you'll do well. There's 
old Blake's cabin just ahead of us." 

‘‘The saints be praised!" was the sincere 
ejaculation. 

‘‘ Well, are you for stopping there, or going on 
to my father's — which ?" 

‘‘Not till morning, Larry ; sure every foot of 
ground is a mile to-night." 

“Well, then. I'll come up for you brave and 
early." 

“But wouldn't you stay here for the night 
yourself?" 

“ilfe.'" I’d sleep in the snow-drift, aye, and 
perish there, before I'd sleep under his roof — the 
I apostate 1" interrupted Connor with a fierceness 
j that startled the timid little Joe. 

“ Oh, well, never mind, sure I didn't mean any 


120 THE CONFESSOKS OF CONNAUGHT; 

harm/^ he said, soothingly; ‘‘but it^s not leaving 
me at the door you’d be ? Sure, Tm a stranger 
in the place, Larry, and then if it wouldn’t be 
convenient — 

“Well, well; knock at the door,” said Connor, 
impatiently. 

The other did so, but in his haste opened the 
door for himself and put in his head with a “ God 
save all here ! Could you let a body stop over 
night ? It’s only a stretch on the floor I’d ask 
for — anything for shelter — it’s a wild night 
abroad — glory be to God !” 

Finding this eloquent appeal unanswered, he 
pushed the door farther open, and cautiously 
thrust his head forward to reconnoitre, till Larry 
pushed him in and followed, holding the door 
to against the driving storm, while he looked 
around for some one to whom he could introduce 
his companion ; a matter that vexed him not a 
little, but what true Irishman would refuse to 
oblige a stranger ? 

The room was unten anted and dark ; but in the 
apartment beyond, a rush light threw a lurid 
glare over an aged woman who stood leaning 
against a table, shaking her finger warningly at 
some person whom they could not see, and to 
whom she was speaking vehemently in a tone 
of alternate anger and entreaty. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 121 

Don’t bring the curse of God on you, Eobert 
a-cushla ; you have too much of it already, poor 
boy, but that’s not so much your own fault as of 
others. Don’t refuse your grandfather this. Are 
you goin’ when I bid you, hardened creature 
that you are, are you goin’ this minute, I ask 
you ? Ah, do then, machree ; don’t you ever re- 
fuse the prayer of the dyin’ an’ the helpless. 
Sure ’twas God put it into his heart to ask — 
’twas the Lord himself an’ none other, though 
it’s little but scourges we deserve at His hands. 
Go, machree, I beg it of you, for the sake of your 
mother, that would go on her knees every step 
of the way if she was livin’ this night, sooner 
than deny her dyin’ father’s prayers — go, for her 
sake, if for no other, darlint !” 

A low muttered reply, which the listeners 
could not catch, followed. 

You won’t — is that what you say ?” the aged 
form shook with weakness and excitement, I’ll 
go, then. He shall never die widout the comfort 
he’s wantin’. Til go, an’ if I perish on the 
mountain this wild night it’ll be more added to 
your account. But what care you for that ?” she 
added, bitterly, as finding even this unavailing, 
she turned and dashed forward to leave the 
cabin. 


122 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Conner shut the door and advanced to meet 
her. At sight of him she raised her arms, and 
with a cry of thankfulness that rang through 
the place, she cried out: ‘‘Now, praise be to 
Him that hasn't deserted us. 'Twas He sent 
you — look there !" 

Conner followed her to the inner room. There 
lay the aged man, “the apostate," against whom 
he had but a few minutes before expressed himself 
so bitterly, motionless, with no sign of life save 
a labored gasp for breath ; it needed but a glance 
to tell that life was slowly ebbing away. With a 
quick revulsion of feeling Conner laid his hand 
gently on the old wife's arm. 

“ Was it the priest ye were wanting?" he 
asked hurriedly. 

“Yes, the priest," she repeated, piteously, as 
she raised her eyes to his, “ the last word he said 
was to send for the priest." 

“Never fear," interrupted Conner, “his Eeve- 
rence will be here directly;" and ere the last 
words had left his lips he was gone. 

Joe Harrigan, who had meanwhile been warm- 
ing himself at the fire, looked after him won- 
deringly as he dashed rapidly away through the 
darkness and storm ; then slowly found his way 
into the other apartment, and gazed curiously on 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 123 

the dying man. God be good to him and to ns 
all/’ he said, after a long gaze, ^^he’s making his 
way fast.’^ 

The woman did not heed him.' Her energy 
had spent itself, and now on her knees by the 
bedside, her skinny hands clasped together, and 
her feeble form rocking to and fro, she wept 
quietly, and murmured prayers for him who lay 
motionless before her. 

Harrigan next turned in search of the person 
to whom she had been speaking on his entrance, 
and beheld at the farther end of the table a youth 
whose face was partially revealed as it rested on 
one hand, while in the other he held a book which 
he was reading attentively. Harrigan looked at 
him with wonder and indignation. There was 
something so revolting in the composure with 
which the boy pored over his book, while within 
a few feet lay the aged pilgrim whose spirit 
hovered on the borders of the unknown world, 
watched over by one as old, and who ere long 
would follow the companion of half a century 
through the Valley of Death. Oh, it was sad to 
look upon her thus, to realize the anxiety that 
pressed upon her worn spirit, as the one desire 
spoke in every prayer, that the priest might 
come in time !” 


124 THE CONFESSORS OP CONNAUGHT; 


The moments dragged slowly by, and with 
each her anxiety grew more intense. Again and 
again she started and listened eagerly, but no 
sound was heard, save the wild howling and 
whistling of the wind. 

‘^His Eeverence’ll be too late, I^m afraid, 
said Harrigan, at length. 

Too late She wailed forth the words in a 
tone of anguish that struck to his heart. Then 
throwing her arms around the motionless form 
she wildly addressed him in Irish, mingling 
promises of the priest’s coming with passionate 
entreaties to look upon her — to speak to her, if 
only one word. 

Don’t; don’t, now, if you want him to live,’' 
and Harrigan drew her with gentle force away. 

The sooner he’s disturbed the shorter time he’ll 
have; all his chance of holding out depends on 
being left quiet. You may believe what I’m 
telling you, ma’am, for I saw folks in this way 
before now.” The poor creature suffered him to 
lead her to a seat at the foot of the bed, where 
she could still gaze through her tears on the face 
of the dying. 

‘^How long is he in this way?” asked the 
stranger, unwilling to have another interval of 
the dreary silence. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 125 

Something of her previous energy was aroused 
by the question, and with a vehemence that ren- 
dered her words at times unintelligible, she re- 
lated that her husband had been struck with 
death ^^all of a sudden,’^ just before his grand- 
son's return from school — that he spoke only 
once, and then to beg her to send for the priest — 
that she had besought Eobert to do his grand- 
father's bidding, but he refused, saying that if 
Mr. Gillman was at home ho would go for Mm, 
but unluckily he was away in the country — that 
she continued to beg him to go, and at last he 
went out to bring the priest, as she thought — 
that after a long time he returned, and in answer 
to her questions said he he did not go for the 
priest, he would not have any Popish mummery 
over his grandfather, who was a Protestant, and 
should die and be buried as one" — that he had 
then sat down to his books and paid no more 
attention to her entreaties to go for Rather 
Dillon — and at last God had sent one to her who 
needed no coaxing and pleading to perform a 
Christian duty. 

To all this the indignant stranger listened 
with eager interest, and was not backward in 
making such comments on it as his feelings 
prompted. But she soon ceased to heed him; 


126 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

her head sank upon the bed, and she prayed and 
listened as before. 

Suddenly the door was thrown open, and with 
a cry of joy the woman started to her feet as 
Larry Conner ushered in the reverend Father 
who came quickly forward, throwing off his wet 
overcoat, as he said in a kind, fatherly tone, 
^^Pax huic domui’^ — (Peace be to this house.) 

Here's his Eeverence now, asthore^^ shouted 
the old wife eagerly in Irish to the dying man. 
“Eobert, a-suilish inahuil agus machree ! (light of 
my eyes and of my heart !) rouse up for the love 
of God — here's Father Dillon — here's the sog- 
garth aroon.^^ 

But even the voice of affection failed to reach 
the torpid senses. With a heartbreaking wail 
she drew back. Wirra ! wirra ! he doesn’t hear 
me — he's gone without the last rites!” 

Am I then too late ?" cried the priest, in a 
tone of anguish. O God of life and death ! 
grant him yet a little time for the sake of Thy 
blessed Son, Jesus !" 

As he uttered the adorable name he sprinkled 
holy water over the dying man, and signed him 
with that tremendous sign” at which hell 
trembles, earth hopes, and heaven rejoices ; then 
spoke in a cheering voice, My poor child, don't 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 127 

you know your priest ? I have come to bring 
you pardon and peace from our good God/^ 

The rigid lips parted, the glazed eyes turned 
in the direction of the voice, the paralized tongue 
made an eifort to speak, alas I a vain effort. But 
it was evident that he recognized and understood 
the saintly messenger of Heaven, for in answer 
to his various questions the latter felt the cold 
hand he had taken feebly press his own, while 
again and again a convulsive effort was made to 
answer him, but the power of speech was gone 
forever. The absolution was given, the last 
anointing followed, and during the succeeding 
prayers the penitent soul passed away. 

The poor old wife knew not when the death- 
angel gave the final stroke. Satisfied with 
hearing the words of absolution pronounced, she 
wept in silence beside the two men who were 
pouring forth their ardent supplications for the 
departing spirit. Father Dillon then repeated 
the prayers for the departed, to which they fer- 
vently responded. 

Poor soul ! she's fell asleep,’' said Larry 
Conner, who had been supporting the feeble 
form by his side. 

The priest leaned over with a sudden fear. 

Thank God ! it is not death,'’ he exclaimed, 


128 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

with a sigh of relief. Don^t wake her, boys — 
let her sleep as long as she can^^ — as with tender 
care he helped to place her on the other bed. 

That rest is badly wanting to her,^^ said 
Harrigan ; and he repeated all she had told him 
of her grandson’s stubborn disobedience. 

An’ as I live there he sits yet,” said Conner, 
with a fiery glance at the youth, who throughout 
the affecting and solemn scene just passed had 
never quitted his studious position at the table. 

The priest stepped forward ; a glance at the 
open volume revealed its sacred character. Is 
it from the bible — King James^ bible — that you 
have learned to be so unfeeling — so brutal ?” he 
asked, gravely and sadly. 

The boy looked up. His face was flushed with 
angry feelings, to which he was about to give 
utterance, but the mournful, tender expression 
of the eyes which were steadfastly observing 
him, checked his insolence. Slowly he arose, as 
if constrained to show respect in spite of him- 
self : his bold, defiant eyes wandered, and finally 
drooped beneath their long black lashes. That 
was all. 

No thought of good,” as Larry Conner 
whispered to Harrigan, could the priest put 
into that unnatural whelp.” 


OR, TttB TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 129 

‘‘I believe you/’ was the reply. His Eeve- 
rence might as well give over talking to him.” 

And so the priest found it, and after a mild 
and earnest exhortation to the misguided youth, 
he turned away with a sigh, and a prayer that 
that heart might yet be touched with heavenly 
grace. It was a sore grief to him in this hour 
which had otherwise been full of consolation, as 
witnessing the return to God of one of the wan- 
derers whose apostacy had caused him the 
keenest sorrow. Full of the spirit of Him who 
prayed that He might not lose any of those 
whom the Father had given Him,” the Soggarth 
aroon” 'prays and toils unweariedly to bring his 
jlock safely through the temptations of earth to 
a heavenly home; and only the guardian angels 
know how he sorrows over those who remain 
estranged from God. Many an hour of anguish 
had the famine-converts caused the faithful Pas- 
tor of Bartrymore; but proportionably great was 
his joy when the wanderers returned to be again 
received by him into the fold from which only 
the keenest suffering and want had caused them 
to stray. Now another had returned at the 
eleventh hour; and, although a death-bed re- 
pentance is seldom to bo trusted, the zealous 
priest felt a consoling assurance that in this case 


130 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

it was sincere, and acceptable to the Merciful 
One who loves to ‘‘crown His own gifts in His 
frail creatures. And as his thoughts reverted to 
her who now slumbered in happy unconscious- 
ness of her bereavement, he rejoiced that , she, 
also, was disposed to “arise and go to her Father/^ 
an humble and sincere penitent. But the mis- 
guided youth, around whom had been woven 
every net that religious zeal could devise — in 
whom ambition, and pride, and vanity had all 
been enlisted as powerful auxiliaries to keep him 
steadfast in “the reformed faith — alas! what 
hope was there that he would escape the toils 

The news of old Eobert Blake's conversion in 
his last hour soon spread through Bartrymore, 
and gained him what was universally pronounced 
“a decent wake an' a still decenter funeral." It 
was touching to hear the various excuses offered 
for the “ obstinacy" of one who in his best time 
had never been very popular with his neighbors; 
had the question of his pardon or condemnation 
for eternity depended on their decision, they 
could not have been more ingenious in seeking 
“ reasons " for acting the way he did. 

One thought that “it was little wonder he 
held back from cornin’ forward an' confessin' his 
crime in leavin' the Church — sure we all have 
our little pride — the Saints help us to overcome 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 131 

it ! — an’ the more guilty we know ourselves to 
be/ the more loth we are to acknowledge it/' 
Another thought it had been ^^the old man’s in* 
tention to let things stand till Eobert’s education 
was finished.” Many persons thought he had 
been deterred ^^from doing what was right by 
gratitude to Lord Woolcut, who, to do him justice, 
was very good to the old couple, leaving them 
the cabin rent free, and keeping the boy in the 
best of clothes, besides giving him some money 
now and then to help them through.” But the 
majority insisted that it was his love for his 
daughter, Norry Costello, that kept him back 
from doing what he maybe thought would be 
like casting censure on her in her grave.” 

And this having brought up the name of Norry, 
many a little anecdote of her was recollected and 
dwelt upon with regretful fondness by those who, 
like Nancy Boyle, found it hard to have to omit 
the accustomed Heaven rest her soul !” And 
Eobert, his late act of undutifulness was duly 
talked over and wondered at, even by those who 
had long since declared ‘Hhey would be surprised 
at nothing bad he’d do,” but who now admitted 
they would never have thought him so hardened 
and unnatural, ^^and he so young, and all that the 
old couple had left to them.” Curious eyes wan- 
dered about in quest of him, but he was nowhere 


132 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


to be seen. And it was a stranger, (though none 
seemed strangers there,) who had to support the 
aged mourner, as she tottered after the lifeless 
form to the church and to the grave, happy amid 
all her grief that it was to repose there. 

The occasion was one of unusual solemnity 
from the peculiar circumstances attending the 
death. With deep emotion Father Dillon read 
the solemn burial service, and in an impressive 
manner addressed the assemblage, imploring 
their prayers for the soul to whom the night 
had come in which no man can work.^' When 
he spoke of the trials the deceased had known, 
every lip quivered and every eye filled, for to 
most there the picture equally represented their 
own lot in life, so fraught with temptations — so 
fruitful of sorrow and suffering — so barren of 
comforts. And good resolves sprang up in every 
heart as their revered Pastor eloquently ex- 
horted them to persevere in inviolable fidelity to 
the Faith which a God came from heaven to be- 
stow on man: that Faith which watches un- 
ceasingly over her children, from the cradle to 
the grave ; aye, beyond the grave — offering up, 
like a tender mother, her tears, her prayers, her 
sacrifices, to hasten their admission to that glory 
which ‘‘ it hath not entered into the heart of 
man to conceive.^^ « 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Bigotry in the Ascendant. 





OBERT Costello, as has been said, 

I kept aloof from both wake and funeral. 
That clever youth — devout reader of 
^^the word'' — had left his home imme- 
diately after his grandfather’s death, 
and taken up his abode at the sexton's, where he 
was not likely to be molested by popish intru- 
ders. This was a step he had long meditated, 
especially since his late appointment as assistant 
teacher, but a secret dread of his grandfather 
had restrained him from making known his in- 
tention. Now he was free to follow his inclina- 
tion, and it led him straight to old Egan's," 
without even troubling himself to bid his be- 
reaved grandmother farewell. His procedure 
increased the excitement prevailing in the parish. 
Pity for the deceased, sympathy for the aged 
mourner, gave way to intense indignation against 
( 133 ) 


134 THE CONFESSORS OP CONNAUGHT; 

the unnatural grandson/^ In this feeling Mr. 
Gillman and his family fully shared, and the ladies 
freely expressed their sentiments, particularly 
in conversation with the younger Egan, who, 
like his father, warmly extolled the brave con- 
duct of his assistant, and declared that he deemed 
their home honored in sheltering such a guest. 

“Eobert could not have done otherwise — in- 
deed, you must not blame him,’^ said he, in dis- 
cussing the subject with Mrs. Gillman. 

Not blame him repeated the minister’s 
wife, warmly. don’t know what reason I 
have given you to think me so lost to all feeling 
as not to blame such unfilial conduct.’’ 

That remark hits me,” said the teacher, with 
a smile, that but poorly masked his chagrin. 

Different people see things in a dijfferent 
light. I for one cannot affect indifference on 
such a subject. Eobert Costello’s conduct would 
be regarded with horror by the very heathens. 
Strange that Christians must strive to justify it.” 

But consider how he was situated, my dear 
madam,” urged the teacher, and perhaps you 
will deem him less reprehensible.” 

Go on. I am rather curious to hear your 
arguments.” 

‘‘Under different circumstances he might have 


OK, THE TENANTS OE A LORD BISHOP. 135 

acted differently; but, indeed, as things were, I 
do Dot see how he could have done otherwise. 
His presence would not have been much comfort 
to the poor old woman — 

‘^In that I fully agree with you^^^ interposed 
Mrs. Gillman, drily. 

The priest had taken the opportunity to 
lecture him harshly, and endeavor to pervert 
him to Eomanism, Then Larry Conner and all 
to whom he gave his one-sided version of the 
matter were ready to tear the poor fellow to 
pieces as ^ a brute of a Protestant villain there 
was no chance of rest or peace for him, save in 
removing from the cabin, and that he did as 
quietly and inoffensively as possible. For my 
part I think he was, if anything, too forbearing. 
Had /been in his place 1 should,have let them 
know that I was then master of the house, and 
had a right to exclude from it whom I pleased, 
and that would have been every bigoted papist, 
from the priest down.^' 

Mrs. Gillman could not see that the school- 
master's explanation placed the matter in a better 
light. The boy's demeanor from the very be- 
ginning was most unbecoming. Think of him 
calmly sitting down to study while his grand- 
father was in the agonies of death !" 


136 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


He could not conscientiously have taken part 
in the mummery which the priest was enacting, 
with the help of Conner and his friend.'^ 

But for whose providential arrival the poor 
woman would have had no one to comfort her in 
that trying hour. I do not say that Eobert 
should have taken part in the religious ceremo- 
nies, but I insist that his place was by that death 
bed, supporting and consoling his broken-hearted 
grandmother, as any dutiful child would have 
done.^^ 

Perhaps you would have him turn papist, by 
wa}’’ of consoling her,^^ sneered the schoolmaster. 

He has done worse, was the impulsive reply. 

Papists are at least Christians — that is a name 
I should never think of applying to Eobert 
Costello.^^ 

Mr Egan shrugged his shoulders, and refrained 
from fui’ther discussion of the subject — she was 
probably half papist herself 

The curate sometimes expostulated with his 
wife on the imprudence of expressing herself so 
vehemently to the sexton and his son ; though 
he acknowledged that he had himself incurred 
the displeasure of higher powers, by venturing 
to disapprove of young Costello. 

Had I any real authority over school affairs 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 137 

he should not be teacher another day. I inti- 
mated as much to the bishop, but he takes an 
exactl}^ opposite view, and is more partial to the 
lad than ever.^^ 

Well, poor as was my opinion of Lord Wool- 
cut, I could never imagine that he could carry 
bigotry so far as that.^^ 

The curate smiled sadly. ‘‘ There are things 
daily occurring which you would deem impossi- 
ble, my dear. From certain indications I have 
no doubt that we will soon find Master Eobert^s 
conduct applauded in the highest religious circles, 
as a pattern to the youth of the United King- 
dom. You are incredulous, Emily ? Wait and 
you will see that I am right.^^ 

And Mr. Gillman was right in his prediction, 
as the event proved. Eobert Costelloes stead- 
fastness in the faith, the martyr-like firmness 
with which he repulsed the priest^s overtures, 
and, stifling his natural feelings, (?) went forth 
alone and desolate from the home of his infancy — 
even giving up for conscience sake the society 
of his still beloved, though misguided relative, 
whose mind, weakened by age and sorrow, had 
succumbed helplessly to the dread power of the 
priest — all this was written and told by evan- 
gelical agents and scripture readers, and read 


138 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

and listened to by crowds of admiring Protest- 
ants. Such wonderful heroism! such fidelity! 
and in one so young, and surrounded, too, by the 
barbarous, unscrupulous devotees of Popery — 
where could a similar instance be found ? 

‘^Nowhere, it is to be hoped for the credit of 
human nature,^^ was Mrs. Gillman’s reply to the 
question, as put by a friend in England, who had 
written in a strain of enthusiastic pathos, con- 
gratulating her again and again that her hus- 
band^s parish had the distinguished honor of pro- 
ducing this wonderful phenomenon — this noble 
young champion of Protestantism. 

Many were the testimonials the young cham- 
pion received ; mostly letters of praise and ex- 
hortation, ending with a request for his auto- 
graph. Some however wore accompanied with 
substantial tokens of esteem, in the shape of 
worked slippers and purses from admiring ladies, 
and small sums of money from appreciative gen- 
tlemen. The curate's wife heard of these various 
movements with indignation that could only find 
vent in the charitable hope, that the descendants 
of the pious donors would follow the wortny ex- 
ample of the champion, and leave them in the 
hour of death, or bereavement, to the pitying 
care of strangers. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 139 

But if the curate gave offence to the zealous 
inhabitants of the Episcopal Palace,'^ by his 
disapproval of the promising young disciple, he 
was not long after guilty of an unpardonable 
crime in refusing to interfere with the Eomish 
priest during the last illness of Eobert's grand- 
mother. He, indeed, visited her frequently, but 
he went, as he told Father Dillon, not to impart, 
but to receive instruction ; and he was deeply im. 
pressed by the lessons he received at that hum- 
ble death-couch, from the pious example of the 
aged penitent, and the consoling influence of the 
faith which was rendering blessed the last days 
of her life. How could he presume to disturb 
the serenity of the dying by theological disqui- 
sitions on the errors of that religion to which it 
was evident her heart had always clung? With 
an innate delicacy of feeling quite out of place in 
one whose business it was to be a zealous pro- 
selytiser, he shrank from enacting the part of a 
religious teacher, in that presence, though well 
aware that he would thereby incur the severest 
censure of his bishop. 

And very pleasant it was to him to And how 
quickly the dying woman understood and ap- 
preciated his feelings ; to see the dim eyes that 
had at first marked his entrance with a look of 


140 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

anxious timidity, now welcome him with a glance 
of trusting confidence ; to find himself associated 
with her own beloved pastor in her earnest ap- 
peal on behalf of her poor, erring grandson. It 
was a strange charge to give to a Protestant 
curate; but Mr. Gillman accepted it without 
hesitation, promising solemnly that he would 
never (in her own language) lay a straw in the 
poor boy^s way/^ if he showed a disposition to 
return to the Catholic Church, and this promise 
from one whom she naturally thought would 
exercise some influence on the boy^s future, went 
far towards tranquilizing her last earthly care. 

Mr. Gillman, however, was not to be much 
longer the curate of Bartrymore. This last proof 
of his lukewarmness in the cause was not to be 
passed over like his previous shortcomings. The 
lord bishop and his daughter, who had never 
liked either the curate or his family, were now 
resolved that things should undergo a total revo- 
lution; and luckily about this time the Hon. and 
Eev. Eector of the parish found a person who 
was every way fitted for the important charge. 

The Eev. Mr. Eobinson was recommended as 
a model of clerical zeal; he was one, it was 
averred, who could make converts where all 
others failed, and who was willing to spend him- 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 141 

self in the service of the gospel. Moreover, his 
daughter, who had kept house for him, from the 
period of her mother^s death, was married to a 
gentleman who, having lately failed in business, 
was supposed to be thereby qualified for school 
teaching, since that was the only avocation now 
open to him. Mr. Turner, therefore, would be 
happy to take the place of the younger Egan, 
who had lately found a more lucrative situation ; 
and his wife, having no family to interfere with 
the important duties, could take charge of the 
female school. 

The family at the parsonage, accordingly, got 
brief notice to leave. A brighter prospect was 
before them, yet it was not without regret that 
they left the far west,’^ their short residence 
in which had dispelled so many preconceived 
opinions. And, surely, never before was so much 
grief shown by a Catholic population in parting 
with a Protestant minister; never did the ladies 
of a parsonage receive more unequivocal proofs 
of the respect and aifection they had deservedly 
won. The millenium’^ was over in Bartrymore ; 
a new order of affairs was to be inaugurated. 


CHAPTER IX. 


The New Minister. 



HE new minister speedily arrived, 
a very different personage in all re- 
spects from his predecessor, as he 
soon made manifiest. If the lord 
bis^iop's testimony might be credit- 
ed, Mr. Eobinson was a most exem- 
plary minister of the word, a pious, 
saintly clergyman ; while those among whom he 
had come to labor mostly pronounced him a 
meddlesome, impudent sort of man. Probably 
both opinions were correct according to the op- 
posite views of the parties. Mr. Eobinson pos- 
sessed one great advantage, he could adapt him- 
self readily to the peculiar circumstances of each 
case, could be hauty or familiar, solemn or merry, 
according as he deemed proper ; as he was wont 
to say, he followed the maxim of Paul, in mak- 
ing himself «^all things to all men, that he might 
gain all to Christ.^" No wonder that such a man 
( 142 ) 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 143 

was soon regarded by his lordship as a treasure, 
and the most sanguine expectations entertained 
of the success of his mission. 

Without loss of time he made himself ac- 
quainted with the views of his noble patrons, 
and set ardently to work. No rebuff discon* 
certed, no fatigue wearied, no obstacle discour- 
aged him. Day after day he traversed the high- 
ways and byways of Bartrymore, seeking out 
the tenants of the Lord Bishop, with the bible 
in one pocket, and a receipt for any trifling ar- 
rears of rent due in the other ; he was ready to 
interest himself for such of the men as wanted 
work; he would see that the miserable cabins 
were repaired, for the comfort of the women. 
He would see that the children got good clothes, 
there was no end to the promises and bribes he 
was willing to offer, provided the children were 
allowed to come to school ; and when all these 
failed of success, he threw out very plain threats 
of coercion, always the favorite remedy with 
tyrants great and small. 

So, with much toil and difficulty, ho managed 
to gain over a few, who thought there could be 
no harm in sending the creatures to school for a 
little while, just to see how things would turn 
out; and the schools were soon on the tide of 


144 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

successful experiment. Mr. and Mrs. Turner 
were his faithful co-laborers, instructing the 
children from the bible without note or comment; 
taking occasion, now and then, to inculcate the 
vast superiority of the Saxon race over all others ; 
and dilating on the wonderful glory and pros- 
perity of Protestant England as the greatest 
nation on the face of the globe. Such teaching 
was likely, from its novelty, to make some im- 
pression on the pupils, especially when they had 
before them a specimen of << Protestant pros- 
perity’^ in the person of Eobert Costello. The 
older lads could remember him as formerly one 
of themselves, but now he was elevated im- 
measurably above them, and looked <^the gentle- 
man entirely” in his fine suit of clothes; was the 
right hand man of the new parson, and was 
always noticed most graciously by the noble 
patrons of the establishment. It was plain to 
all that he had done well for himself, and what 
if his apostacy was censured in other quarters; 
when he was cited by teachers and visitors as an 
example of what each boy there might hope to 
become. 

Thq two principals contrived to make them, 
selves immensely popular with their pupils, and 
Mr. Kobinson often looked in to see how they 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 145 

were getting on, and his flatteries and funny 
anecdotes always insured him a hearty welcome. 
He had an unfailing fund of stories about good 
boys and girls who always chanced to be Pro- 
testants, and about bad boys and girls who, of 
course, were always Catholics. Soon he began 
to excite their childish sympathies by wonderful 
tales of persecutions, in which naughty Papists 
always figured as the persecutors, and saintly 
Protestants as the glorious martyrs ; and having 
thus glided almost imperceptibly into the subject 
of religion, he could venture sometimes on a fling 
at this Popish doctrine and a laugh at that 
Eomish superstition, with little fear that the 
children would report him out of school.^^ And 
indeed the older scholars being encouraged to 
come early to the school* house, and remain after 
hours, as it was such a nice place for play, or 
study, were gradually withdrawn almost wholly 
from parental guardianship. And then, how 
easy to puff up those innocent minds with the 
idea that they were superior to the children who 
were attending Mrs. Brown’s ragged school,’^ 
or at home learning nothing. 

Affairs were no^v in a highly satisfactory state 
to the ruling powers. What though the at- 
tendance at the church continued slim, Lord 


146 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Woolcut was fully persuaded that the work was 
going on among the rising generation, and that 
in a few years they would occupy the now vacant 
pews, as intelligent and zealous converts. His 
son was able to give glowing accounts of my 
parish^^ to his noble and clerical friends in Dublin. 
The Hon. Miss Woolcut was perfectly satisfied 
with the zeal and ability displayed by Mrs. 
Turner, and showed her approbation by frequent 
visits to the school in which, during Miss Hud- 
son's administration, she had been almost a 
stranger. This condescension on the part of the 
great lady delighted the principal, stimulating 
her to increased exertions to deserve the confi- 
dence reposed in her. 

The new curate was triumphant. He had not 
the slightest doubt that he was to be the favored 
instrument, in the designs of a merciful Provi- 
dence, to rescue the benighted population of that 
barbarous region from the slavish thraldom in 
which Eomanism had kept them bound. There- 
fore, though a partial success had already crowned 
his efforts, it behooved him not to relax in his 
energetic proceedings, but to labor in season and 
out of season to further his great mission. One 
obstacle in the way of success he was not long 
in removing. Most of the parents objected to 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 147 

sending their boys to a school in which the rene- 
gade Costello was employed as teacher. The 
parson, admitting the objection to be not alto- 
gether without reason, represented the matter 
to Lord Woolcut so forcibly as to gain his lord- 
ship’s reluctant consent to the removal of the 
favorite as a necessary measure. The promising 
youth was promoted to the office of head teacher 
in a neighboring town. 

Having yielded thus far to their prejuices, Mr. 
Eobinson now claimed a corresponding conces- 
sion from the obliged parties, and never, as 
they often complained, were unlucky people so 
badgered and pestered as they were to be hence- 
forth. Sunday and week day, at home and 
abroad, they were never secure from the minister; 
he waylaid them coming from church, or fair — 
he presented himself suddenly at the cottage 
door, while they were taking their humble meal — 
he was ubiquitous. 

He’s worse than all that went before him — 
sorra one of me knows what’s to become of us;” 
some would sigh with a look of hopeless resigna- 
tion. While others shook their fists and clenched 
their teeth in fierce but impotent rage when the 
parson’s back was turned, feeling keenly all the 
misery and degradation of their lot, and long- 


148 THE CONFESSOBS OF CONNAUGHT; 


mg — oh how savagely ! — for the power to hurst 
the shackles which English civilization had woven 
round them, poor helpless victims of landlordism. 

A church festival was always the minister’s 
field day,” for having no service” to hold at 
his own church, he had full leisure to devote 
himself to the enlightenment of the poor crea- 
tures who were so far behind the age as to be 
willing to forego a day’s employment occasionally 
for the sake of worshipping God. This- was a 
theme he loved to dwell upon, in his visits, on 
such occasions ; for, had he not on his side the 
command, Six days shalt thou labor” — and 
was it not self-evident that these constantly re- 
curring Saints’-days and holidays were the true 
cause of the poverty of the Irish peasantry ? 
How could they hope to attain the enviable con- 
dition of England’s prosperous yeomanry, while 
they wasted time that was more precious than 
gold on such fooleries ? This was a matter of 
scarcely less importance in his view than the 
promotion of the educational scheme to which, 
in obedience to the earnest desire” of Lord 
Woolcut, he was devoting his best energies. 

Isn’t that the parson coming up the road?” 
‘‘Yes, Tis himself, never welcome him, an’ his 
daughter leaning on his arm.” “Now, he’ll be 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 149 

at some of us — wisha ! are we forever an^ always 
to be bothered wid the likes of him 

These and similar remarks might be heard 
among St. Stephen’s congregation as they left 
the sacred edifice on a holiday that occurred 
shortly after Eobert Costello’s departure. 

Blessed Stephen, deliver us from the tempter ! 
Yerself knows what ’tis to suffer for the Church 
of God.” The ejaculation was responded to by 
earnest Amens” from all around. 

Well, indeed, mother, ’tisn’t clear to me but 
St. Stephen had the easiest suffering — with due 
respect to him — for I’d sooner be stoned to death 
any day than be talked to death by a blathern- 
skite of a parson.” 

That’s true for you, Larry Conner, there’d 
be some satisfaction in that, for stoning is a game 
that two can play at, handy ; but you can’t bid 
him hold his prate, or take it where it would be 
more wanting, without you’re as impudent as 
himself.” 

Faith, then,” said a sturdy looking fellow, 
I think ’tis something like that 111 be tollin’ 
him one of those times.” 

^^Yes, and get yourself turned out o’ doors, 
an’ all of us along wid you,” interrupted his 
wife. ^^’Tis wishin’ you’ll be that you’d kept 


150 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

your tongue behind your teeth when weVe all 
flung out on the roadside/^ 

That's a sensible word as was ever spoke," 
chimed in another. Where's the use of talking, 
man alive ? We're in his power, and he knows 
it well. What are they standing still for, I 
wonder 

He's considerin', maybe, which of us he'll 
tackle to first." 

God put it into his heart to leave us alojie 
to-day," murmured one woman, with a fervor 
that seemed to gain her prayer, for at that mo- 
ment the individuals who were so anxiously 
watched turned off into a footpath that led in 
another direction. A feeling of relief at their 
deliverance dispelled the clouds from every 
countenance; some hurried on to be ^‘out of 
harm's way," while others gazed curiously after 
the two gospellors. 

I see what they're after," cried one, they're 
hurrying to overtake the Eegans." 

Yes, that's it, Johanna told me herself the 
minister's been haunting Barney about the chil- 
dren this month past." 

Faith, then, Barney won't be the one to 
baulk him, if there's anything to be gained by 
it — the idle rogue." 


OB, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 151 

See the minister’s come up to him now — 
there they go all together. I’ll engage he’ll 
carry his point this time, if he has to go every 
step of the road with them.” 

The speaker guessed right. Mr. Eobinson had 
placed himself beside Began, and was addressing 
him with an earnestness that showed he did not 
mean to be put oif any longer ; while his daugh- 
ter attached herself to the mother and children, 
whom she accosted in tones of winning cordiality. 
The former received her advances somewhat 
coldly. Her native politeness rebelled against 
holding aloof from the pleasant lady, but she 
could not overcome a feeling of injury, for she 
was too well aware of the object of this chance 
meeting. 

‘‘ What a lovely child ! Tell me your name, 
darling.” And Mrs. Turner gently took one 
hand of the youngest child, who was holding 
tightly to her mother’s gown. Alley ? That’s 
a pretty name, pretty enough for its little owner. 
How I envy you !” she added, turning mournfully 
to Johanna. had a little girl — she would be 
just the age of this darling had she lived.” 

Johanna’s heart softened. With a touch of 
remorse for her coldness, she turned her eyes 
more kindly on the bereaved young mother, and 


152 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

replied soothingly that that was a grief such as 
only God and a mother could tell; ^^but she^s 
with the angels, that’s one comfort you have — 
she’s better off than all your love could make 
her.” 

She stopped abruptly, for a word or two of the 
minister’s discourse reached her, and, as she 
looked towards him, she encountered her hus- 
band’s wavering glance that told her but too 
plainly that he was in a yielding mood. 

<^What d’ye say, Johanna? may the children 
go to the school ?” 

‘‘ Not if word of mine has any weight with 
you,” was the quick and resolute reply. 

Come, now, my good woman, don’t stand in 
your children’s light,” said the minister. 

^^Such bright-looking children, too,” chimed 
in his daughter. 

^^Yes, it would be a crime to keep them back. 
Come, now, be reasonable, my friend : your hus- 
band is willing to give them the blessing of a 
good education if you don’t object.” 

‘‘That I always will, then, with the help of 
God,” replied Johanna, stoutly. “ I’m not mean- 
ing any offence to you, sir ; maybe it’s all for 
their good you’re striving, but God knows best 
what’s' in everybody’s heart.” 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 153 

A violent fit of coughing from the eldest boy, 
a sickly looking lad of sixteen, checked the 
minister in what would probably have been a 
sharp rejoinder. 

Your son has a bad cold,^’ said Mrs. Turner. 

Has he had it long 

Indeed he’s had it off and on these month’s 
past,” answered the mother, who was anxiously 
regarding him. ^^It seems, ma’am, as if he’s 
''never to get shut of it, poor boy.” 

I will make him some syrup that will help 
him ; that cough must be cured as soon as pos- 
sible, or it will wear all his strength away.” 

Johanna gratefully returned thanks for the 
kind promise. But when the all important theme 
of the school was resumed, she was as inflexible 
as ever. However, her opposition availed little. 
The parson was too shrewd an observer not to 
understand Ecgan’s weak point. A reduction in 
his rent was too tempting a bait to hold out to 
one who, though a good fellow enough in the 
main, was incorrigibly lazy, and thought the 
happiest lot in life would be to have nothing to 
do but smoke a j)ipe all day long. So, despite all 
poor Johanna’s warning gestures, which he pre- 
tended not to see, Barney gave the required 
promise, and the parson and his daughter turned 
back well pleased with the result of their walk. 


154 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


You must be sure to send this little one/^ 
were the parting words of Mrs. Turner, as she 
stooped to kiss Alley's rosy cheek. She will be 
my pet, I know." 

‘^Oh, Barney! Barney! may God forgive you 
for what you’ve done this day," burst from the 
wife in a tone of anguish, as she pursued her 
homeward way, weeping bitterly." 

Hold your whist, woman. Can't you let them 
have their way for this once." ^ 

Yes, an' their way will be to ruin the poor 
creatures forever. Oh, Barney, it isn’t much 
comfort we can give the poor things in this 
world, an' isn't it a cruel thing to rob them of 
what would make them happy in the next ! 
'Tisn’t for the sake of a few shillings that you’d 
send them to lose their souls.’' 

Easy talking. If you had to earn the shil- 
lings, sorra one of them but j^ou’d know the 
value of See here, now, won’t it be a fine thing 
for poor Bernard not to have to work so hard to 
help me to pay a big rent? And here's Mick, 
that’s got the making of a smart boy in him, as 
you heard his reverence say, an' indeed 'twasn't 
the first time he said the same thing, an' that 
maybe 'twon’t be long before he gets to be 
teacher." 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 155 

The Lord forbid interrupted Johanna, with 
a groan. 

“ Oh, it^s in a taken^ you are the day, there’s 
no satisfying you.^^ 

An’ after all the warnings of the priest, 
Heaven be his bed,” the mother went on, busy 
with her own sad thoughts ; it’s hard enough 
he strives to keep us in the right way, an’ it 
won’t be him that’ll be faulted if we go astray 
from it. Well, well, may our blessed Lord bring 
all things right as He only can.” 

The next day saw the young Eegans enrolled 
among the pupils of Lord Woolcut’s school 

‘^Very encouraging, indeed,” remarked his 
lordship, when informed of this new triumph. 

My dear sir, I can never sufficiently express 
my appreciation of the admirable zeal and tact 
you display in conducting these difficult nego- 
tiations.” 

The minister felt highly elated by such a com- 
pliment, coming from so distinguished a source^ 
and hoped his humble efforts would always give 
satisfaction. His next venture, however, was 
not quite so successful. 

Eeturning from a call on one of his parishion- 
ers, he took the long road round by the moun- 
tains for the purpose of seeing some of the 


156 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

peasants inhabiting that dreary locality, and 
obtaining some scholars^^ from among them. 
It required a degree of courage little less than 
that which ‘‘carries a man to the cannon’s 
mouth” to nerve the parson for this undertaking, 
for the people hereabouts unquestionably be- 
longed to that class of demi-civilized beings, pos- 
sessing all the bad qualities and none of the good 
ones of the savage, who figured so largely in 
evangelical reports of “the Irish mission-” If 
the parson looked about him with a sudden and 
terrifying consciousness of the loneliness of this 
out-of-the-way region, while recollections of the 
thousand-and-one outrages which he had read of 
with shuddering horror forced themselves upon 
his mind, let us not rashly dub him coward; 
he was alone, unarmed, and totally unacquainted 
with the manly science of pugilism — what chance 
had he if these “Irish boors” — so bloodthirsty 
and with such a hatred to his cloth, should hap- 
pen to be in a fierce mood ? 

Musing thus, dreadful images haunting him 
only the more pertinaciously as he tried to banish 
them, he came suddenly upon a group of children 
playing merrily, in utter disregard of the rain 
that was falling heavily on their half clad forms. 
“ Perfect little savages,” he muttered, as he stood 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 157 

a moment observing their boisterous sport, and 
listening to the “ Irish jargon they were speak- 
ing, in happy unconsciousness of a critic’s pre- 
sence. And as he listened a new difficulty pre- 
sented itself. How was he to make his errand 
understood by these unfortunate creatures who 
were so deplorably ignorant of the language of 
Milton and Shakspere ! With a feeling of pitying 
contempt for the offspring of such wretches, he 
was passing on, when one of the larger girls sud- 
denly espied him, and by a whisper drew the 
attention of her companions to him. Some 
scampered off to their homes in mortal fear of 
the parson ; others peeped out from the shelter 
of the furze with mingled timidity and boldness 
at the strange visitor ; but the big girl turned 
coolly to her play once more, maliciously chant- 
ing in her strong rough voice, the old nursery 
rhyme. 

“Fee, faw, fum ! 

I smell the blood of an Englishman ; 

Be he live or be dead, 

I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.’* 

And half a dozen others caught up the strain, 
echoing loudly the appalling threat. The parson 
lowered his umbrella over his head and walked 
rapidly on, his face flushed with anger. Eidicu- 


158 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


lous as he knew the feeling to be, he was en- 
raged at the application of the old vulgar 
rhyme, which he felt sure the rude girl had sung 
on purpose to vex and mortify him. Nor was 
the surmise an incorrect one. During Miss Hud- 
son’s brjef reign as schoolmistress, she had im- 
parted the treasures of nursery lore to most of 
the children in that neighborhood, and, with the 
quickness of her race, the girl applied the rhyme 
suited to the invader. 

If such be the children, what reception may 
I expect from the parents?^' thought the cha- 
grined proselytiser ; and, but for a feeling of 
shame, he would have hastily beat a retreat from 
that unpromising locality. But no. Having put 
his hand to the plow, he must not look back, so 
with outward composure he halted at the first 
dwelling, if dwelling it might be called. A 
miserable mud cabin — a mere mound of earth — 
with neither window nor chimney ; a doorway so 
low that he had to stoop almost double to enter 
it; in the centre of the roof a hole which was to 
serve for a chimney, but through which the 
smoke of the smouldering fire of green turf obsti- 
nately refused to go, preferring to add to the 
twilight gloom of the hut, around which the 
visitor peered for several minutes ere he could 


OB, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 159 

see what was before him. Nor did the view, 
when obtained, recompense his trouble. Furni- 
ture there was none, unless a handful of straw 
in one corner, with some rags by 'way of bed- 
clothes, might be so designated. Upon this 
crouched a withered old crone, rocking to and 
fro, her dudeen adding its quota to the smoke 
that filled the hut. 

Squatting in front of the fire, a woman much 
younger and smarter in appearance, though she 
had evidently passed the allotted ^nhree-score 
years and ten,^^ was industriously endeavoring 
to raise a blaze by fanning the miserable fuel 
with her apron. She rose as the visitor entered, 
and curtseying a welcome to his worship,^^ in- 
vited him to approach the fire, an invitation he 
declined, having sufficient smoke where he stood 
to satisfy the most inordinate lover of that com- 
modity. Finding to his great relief that the 
woman could understand him, he quickly made 
known the object of his visit. The aged crone, 
hearing a strange voice, managed with no little 
difiiculty to rise and hobble forward a few steps, 
muttering some unintelligible sounds the while. 
The parson bowed with the respect due to ex- 
treme old age, and inquired after her good health. 

She has no English, sir, my poor old mother ; 


160 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

she has only Irish/^ And with the words she 
helped to place the feeble old creature back in 
her former place, talking to her the while in ac- 
cents of loving tenderness. 

About the school your worship was talkin’. 
Here’s the mother of the children cornin’ now. 
Judy,” turning to a stout, middle-aged woman, 
who just then made her appearance, with a 
head of cabbage and some potatoes from the 
garden, Judy, this gentleman’ll be wantin’ to 
to speak wid you about sendin’ the children to 
school, but sure he can’t come in wid the smoke, 
bad manners to it, for smoke, my heart’s just 
broke wid it.” And she betook herself to her 
former position, trying her might to convert the 
apron into a bellows. 

Judy threw back her gown, which had been 
turned up over her head by way of umbrella, 
and fixed a pair of searching black eyes on the 
visitor, whose white neckerchief and black coat 
proclaimed his vocation, while as if disdaining 
to address him direct, she rejoined: “About the 
school, is it? Faith, then, mother, he’ll trot 
back the same’s he came, barrin’ the mud he’ll 
gather on the road. 

Bido hocht avickj sure ’tisn’t insultin’ his 
honor you’d be ?” 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 161 

A guttural augh ! augli was all the answer 
Judy vouchsafed, accompanied with a turn of the 
head that spoke more contempt than could be 
put into words, as with very unnecessary clatter 
she b^egan to wash the potatoes. 

It’s offerin’ you a seat I’d be, sir,” said the 
older woman, in a tone of deference that seemed 
intended to compensate for her daughter’s ill- 
manners, if our poor place would afford the 
like, but — ” 

‘^There’s a little bench,” said Judy, gruffly. 

The mother, gratified by this concession, spoke 
more briskly. So there is, honey, but ’tis my- 
self that’s ashamed to offer the likes of it ; how- 
ever,” — and she reluctantly brought forward an 
old and battered stool, which she began to dust 
with her apron. 

‘Olake no excuses, my good friend,/ began 
the minister, blandly. ‘^It is I that should 
apologize for this intrusion, but — ” 

Another expressive augh !” from the bustling 
Judy gave so ready an assent to his words that 
he broke off in some confusion. 

Why, then. I’m ashamed of you,” said the 
older female, in a stage whisper, and setting 
down the well-dusted stool, said deprecatingly : 

It’s sorry I am that it isn’t better suited for a 


162 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

gentleman like your honor, hut ^tis the best 
weVe got — Ohone 

And it’s all we’ve got — why didn’t you tell 
the gentleman that while you was about it, 
mother? An’ if he’d condescend to ask why 
we’ve got no more, sure you could send him to 
Lord Woolcut’s agent for the inforB^ation.” 
The latter words uttered with fierce emphasis. 

Then if I know what’s got into you the day, 
Judy,” sighed the distressed woman, whose old- 
fashioned feelings of hospitality were sorely 
wounded. Sure the gentleman foment you 
had nothing to do wid that, and anyway the 
landlord has a right to his rent, no matter how 
we raise it.” 

No matter j sure enough. I’ve heard tell of 
parts of Ameriky where they can sell a negro 
slave to raise money, when all other means 
fail — bedad, like enough there'll be an act of 
Parliament afore long giving landlords here the 
same power over their Irish slaves, as Andrew 
says.” 

‘^’Tis an awful system — that of American 
slavery !” began the parson, eagerly seizing the 
opportunity to dilate on a neutral subject. 

There’s never a doubt of it, sir,” chimed in 
the mother. 


OR, TnE TEN’ANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 163 

Troth, then, if it's worse than Irish slavery 
it must be worse than the devil himself/^ inter- 
posed the ^^irrepressible" Judy, who having now 
got her dinner on and succeeded in raising a 
flame" under the pot, was brandishing an old 
stump of a broom about in the delusion that she 
was clearing up the hearth. ^^Bad luck to all 
landlords and agents, I say, that would grind 
the face of the poor." 

I am sorry to hear such language from you,'* 
said the parson, deeming it his duty to ad- 
minister a mild rebuke. 

She turned on him fiercely. ^^Why, then, 
who asked you to hear till it ? Answer me that, 
will you? An’ if you don't like it, it's easy 
enough gettin' rid of it ; there's the door wide 
open, an' maybe the sooner you take yourself 
outside of it the better." 

The minister arose. There was plainly no use 
in talking of the blessings of education here. So 
covering his discomfiture by an assumption of 
dignity, he said loftily : I repeat that I am sorry 
to hear such language from one of your sex. 
Perhaps after all it is not to be wondered at, 
though I had thought your religion — " 

‘‘Is it my religion you'd be attackin', you black 
hearted Presbyterian, for that's what you are, 


164 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

an' no decent Protestant at all !" roared Judy, 
coming forward with uplifted broom in so threat- 
ening an attitude that the minister was glad to 
obey her command, to get out of her sight/' 
and hurried -away, the last sound he heard being 
a shout of triumphant laughter from his enemy, 
with an ironical ‘‘ Is it going so soon your rever- 
ence is ? won't you stop till my man comes home ? 
be dad he'll make thread of you — arrah you’d 
better wait, honey." 

Not fancying the promised transformation, the 
parson was fain to decline the invitation and go 
his way in no enviable state of mind. Accosting 
any of the other barbarians was out of the ques- 
tion, and in deep tribulation of spirit, he hastened 
onward, anxious only to find himself within the 
quiet precincts of the parsonage, that he might 
compose his ruffled spirit. But he had not so far 
to go for consolation, for ho soon found himself 
near the home of a decent family," converts to 
Protestanism {and Prosperity.) It was the cot- 
tage formerly occupied by the Blakes and Cos- 
tellos, the cottage which had witnessed so many 
sad scenes in the tragedy by which British Pro- 
vidence pretends to promote the welfare of the 
Irish." The cottage and its surroundings had a 
thriving aspect, so had the tenants, who came 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 165 

out to give eager welcome to the unexpected 
guest. Ah ! how delightful was the contrast — 
how soothing the respectful attentions shown to 
their pastor and their hypocritical professions of * 
attachment to ^^our church and schools/^ after 
the scene from which he came. It was balm to 
his wounded feelings, to descant on the un- 
pleasant theme, exciting the wonder and indigna- 
tion of his sympathizing hearers. 

« There’s one family would be better tp get 
hold of than a dozen others,” said one in the 
course of conversation. ‘‘ That’s the O’Lough- 
lins.” 

I have tried them already,” was the reply. 

But I must try again.” 



CHAPTER X. 


Clerical Zeal versus Parental Bights. 



HE minister will give you a bad name, 
' Tm afraid, Michael ; he thinks it very 
Utrange that he can never find you at 
home/^ said Mrs. O'Loughlin to her hus- 
band, as the family were enjoying the 
noontide meal. 

A fine family group it was : one which would 
recall memories of the good old times, when 
Ireland's prosperity’^ was betokened by her 
ruddy, intelligent, industrious population, rather 
than by herds of choice cattle, and droves of 
splendid fat pigs.^^ Two fine looking young 
men, full of health and spirit— a graceful maiden 
in the first bloom of womanhood — six rosy- 
cheeked, bright-eyed boys and girls ranging from 
four to fifteen years — made up a group on which 
the parents' gaze might well linger with loving 

( 166 ) 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 167 

pride ; while the almost reverential affection with 
which they were regarded, showed how hallowed 
was the bond that united parent and child in 
that happy household. 

The mother's remark was greeted with shouts 
of laughter, in which the father joined heartily 
as he replied. 

^^IVe escaped his reverence once more; this 
makes the fifth time, I believe, that I have been 
unfortunately absent when the representative of 
^the State Church' condescended to make a 
friendly visit to my poor place." 

He takes a wonderful interest in you, father," 
said Katie, with a rougish smile ; regrets ex- 
ceedingly that he sees you so seldom, and then 
only for a moment, for he is quite anxious to 
have a pleasant chat with one of whom he has 
heard so much since his coming amongst us." 

^^No doubt of it, but that same pleasant chat 
won't spoil by keeping." 

But where were you at all ?" queried the wife, 
looking not a little puzzled, Mr. Eobinson de- 
clared that he could take a solemn oath that he 
saw you in the kitchen garden as he came up the 
road." 

So could I," said Mark, looking slyly at his 
brother. 


168 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

I saw him as well, and made no doubt but 
he was coming to inquire after my good health ; 
but as yourself or the boys could satisfy his kind 
anxiety on that score, I just stepped into the 
corn*£ield hard by to rest awhile. You wouldn^t 
believe, Kathleen, how tired a man gets some- 
times, and what a fine place that field is to rest 
in when the corn is as high as it is just now.^' 

Or to hide in from unwelcome visitors,^^ said 
Frank. The men and ourselves searched dili- 
gently, under the parson^s direction, but father 
was nowhere to be found, though we could all 
say that he was there a little while before.^^ 
So we got rid of him at your expense, mother, 
by suggesting that father might have gone to the 
house. Did he stay long 

The best part of an hour, I believe, replied 
Mrs. O^Loughlin. 

Or rather the worst part of it, Kathleen.^^ 
Well, indeed, I had no fault to find with 
him ; he was quite friendly and pleasant. He 
had some funny anecdotes to tell of his former 
parish ; and then he began to talk of his present 
charge.’^ 

And so edged around to the schools, I war- 
rant.^^ 

Yes, he spoke warmly of the interest his son- 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 169 

and daughter take in the children's improve- 
ment ; but when he hinted the great advantage 
it would be to my little ones to go to such excel- 
lent schools, I put a stop to his eloquence very 
civilly by telling him that their father had all to 
say in that matter." 

What a submissive wife he must think you," 
said her husband, laughingly. I suppose that 
sent him off, and indeed 'twas full time." 

‘‘We were all on the watch to see him go," 
said Mark, but we began at last to think he 
had stolen a march on us, though Tim Dooley 
was ‘ready to.make affidavit that not so much 
as a chicken could go out of the yard unbeknown 
to him, let alone the parson.' " 

“ I would have sent Stephen to the field to let 
you know he was gone," said Mrs. O'Loughlin, 
“ only I was afraid he might see the child and 
suspect something ; though, for that matter, I 
believe he had his suspicions as it was." 

“He's welcome to them if they serve to keep 
him quiet for the future. He made me lose time 
that's more precious with me than with him just 
now, and the loss would have been still greater 
only for Katie here." 

“ So you understood my signal, father ?" 

“To be sure I did, my beauty," replied the 


% 


170 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

father, looking with proud affection on his oldest 
daughter. What hour of day was that to be 
shaking out a tablecloth 

That same tablecloth got a good shaking,’^ 
said Frank, laughing, as they rose from the table. 
^‘Be sure always to have a good strong one 
handy for that purpose, Katie. ^The boys^ 
wanted to answer your signal by a hurrah ; but, 
like mother, we had a wholesome fear of the 
minister being spying about ; so you’ll have to 
take the will for the deed, Katie dear.’' 

If 'tis just the same to you. I’ll take neither 
the one nor the other,” said his, sister, with a 
toss of her pretty head. 

Come, now, Mistress Kathleen, don’t be hard 
on the decent fellows,” replied Frank, demurely. 
“ I know, indeed, that it is quite another sort of 
a will you’d prefer taking, but — ” 

A smart box on the ear interrupted him. 
There was a playful scuffle between brother and 
sister, which ended in the young man being 
pushed out of doors, beaten but not vanquished, 
for as he passed the window near which stood 
the laughing girl, rosy and panting after her 
victory, he gave her a nod of saucy defiance, and 
went slowly forward, singing some impromptu 
words to a favorite air : 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 171 

When my Will comes o’er the sea, 

What a happy girl I’ll be, 

Tol-de-rol-ol-le.” 

If the fair Kathleen's face had been rosy be- 
fore, it might well be called crimson now. 

“ Isn't that pretty Nell Joyce coming np the 
road?" she called out tauntingly. But Frank 
was too far off to be disturbed by the malicious 
insinuation : so she had to content herself with 
muttering — Never mind — I'll be even with you 
some of these days, my fine fellow !" — as she 
hastened to help her mother in the various house- 
hold duties claiming her attention. 

There was great rejoicing in Bartrymore. 
Bonfires blazed among the hills ; loud shouts and 
huzzas were given with a will; amateur musi- 
cians made the air resound with the stirring notes 
of ^^St. Patrick’s Day in the Morning." True^ 
there were no great processions, or triumphant 
arches, or bands of martial music, to give eclat 
to the occasion, and the gentry laughed at the 
humble demonstration ; but there was enthusiasm 

I 

such as not the arrival of the whole royal family 
of England could have awakened in those true 
Irish hearts, and there were heartfelt blessings 
and sobs of joy mingling with the welcoming 
shouts that rent the air, as William O’Loughlin, 


172 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

the noble young felon, stepped once more upon 
the soil his boyish feet had trod. 

He had left it a high spirited, ardent, impetu- 
ous boy, glorying in the title of felon and rebel ; 
rejoicing that he could suffer for his country, 
since he might not fight for her; exulting in the 
hope (alas, as delusive as it was glorious !) that 
a rebellion had been begun which would never 
end until it had wrought the great work of 
Ireland’s independence. He returned to it an 
earnest, thoughtful man, as warm-hearted if less 
buoyant, as enthusiastic if less hopeful than of 
old. Had he learned to regard his former feel- 
ings as foolish ? his boyhood’s hope as a fleeting 
dream,” to be remembered only with regret that 
he had sacrificed to it so many of his best 
years.” Ah ! pitiful must be the spirit, unmanly 
the heart in which banishment or all the torture 
that tyrants’ power can inflict, will work repent- 
ance or submission to the tyrant^s will. 

The young O’Loughlin’s was not such a nature. 
Years of penal exile had but burned deeper into 
his mind the story of Ireland’s wrongs, had 
but intensified his abhorrence of Anglo-Saxon 
rule” — his vehement desire to see it broken for- 
ever — Ireland a Nation!” Yes. Second only 
to his own hope of a glorious immortality was 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 173 

his hope of the. nationality of Ireland — dearer to 
him than ever was the name of Irishman — more 
welcome to him the title of rebel and traitor to 
British rule in Ireland, than .all the titles and 
rewards of loyalty a ‘^gracious Sovereign’^ could 
deign to bestow on willing slaves. 

These were some of the sentiments he ex- 
pressed when receiving the hundred thousand 
welcomes'^ from his former companions and 
friends, all boys together once more, throwing 
off with genuine Celtic facility the cares and 
anxieties that manhood had brought to them all ; 
and loud and long were the shouts that hailed 
his speech, as hand clasped hand in a pledge of 
unswerving fidelity to the dear old land. Such 
meetings and re-unions, though they may be 
sneered at and derided as cheap patriotism, have 
still one grand result : they help to keep alive in 
the Irish heart the sacred fire of loyalty to the 
country, of disloyalty to ^Hhe stranger.^^ Pas- 
sive love soon dies out ; action alone can keep it 
alive. Then let the love of country, if it may 
not be shown by deeds, manifest itself by words, 
keeping alive the sacred flame until the dawning 
of that longed-for day when Ireland, once more 
unrolling her Sunburst, will call her children to 
assemble under its gorgeous folds, and strike 
nobly for ‘‘ God and their native land.^^ 


174 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


Young O’Loughlin could not tarry long in 
Ireland. He was resolved never to make his 
home there while it was under British rule. He 
must seek a home in the New World, the land of 
promise, to which the Irishman's heart turns as 
to a "second mother country." He had money 
to buy a farm which should be all his own, un- 
troubled by the fear of governments and land- 
lords, and his preparations were soon made for 
a voyage across the Atlantic. He went, but not 
alone. Kathleen, the pet of his boyhood, the 
beloved correspondent during his years of exile, 
was with him, a happy, loving bride. Blessings 
and good wishes accompanied them, and many, 
recollecting the parting words of the young 
patriot — I will come back as soon as the work 
begins ^^ — indulged the hope of seeing him once 
more in his native land at no distant day. 

A few evenings after the departure of the young 
couple, two or three friends dropped in at the 
O'Loughlin's to spend a social hour after the 
labors of the day. The wedding and its attend- 
ant circumstances having been disposed of, they 
turned to that unfailing topic of the day, the 
parson's zeal for proselytizing. 

You've managed to keep all your little ones 
safe out of his clutches yet, Mr. O'Loughlin," said 
one. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 175 

Yes, and with the help of God I shall always 
keep them so/^ 

Well, I hope you may be able, but there^s no 
telling. He’s a persevering man, that same 
minister; and you have so many young children 
it isn’t easy denying them. You can’t hide them 
as Cavan did his.” 

‘^How was that — did he hide Bridget from the 
minister?” asked Mrs. O’Loughlin. 

^^He just did. You see he was lucky enough 
to know when the parson was coming; so he 
just put her behind him, and when Mr. Eobinson 
began to palaver, he pointed easy like to the 
cradle where his little grandchild was asleep, 
and says he, ^ Hadn’t your reverence better take 
cradle and all V ” 

‘^That was a cute trick in Cavan, but Dan 
Coyle played a still better one on the parson. 
Mrs. Turner, it seems, heard that Dan had a 
smart little girl, that it would be well to get into 
the school; but when the parson went for her, 
never a girl was in Dan’s cabin but Widow Nelly’s 
strapping daughter that he had borrowed for the 
occasion. Says the minister, ^ I thought you had 
a younger daughter, Coyle. This young woman 
is almost too tall to send to school, I fear.’ ^ I 
was thinking the same myself, sir,’ says he as 


176 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

meek as a lamb / but didn^t he danee and sing 
with glee when the minister was well out of 
hearing 

I wonder if they have got little Nancy Mona- 
ghan yet/^ said Mrs. O'Loughlin. ^^Last time I 
saw her mother, she was in great trouble about 
her. It would be too bad if they got her into 
the school; such a smart, good little thing as she 
is, too.^^ 

‘^That^s what she is,^’ chuckled one of the 
visitors. O she^s safe enough for awhile. Havn^t 
you heard of their meeting wid the minister last 
Sunday r 

‘^Not a word.^^ 

Why, then, ma’am dear, the three of them — 
father, mother and child — were coming home 
from Vespers, when who should they meet but 
the minister and the schoolmaster ? There was 
no avoiding them ; so when Mr. Eobinson began 
to talk of the child, what does my brave pair do 
but run off as fast as their four feet would carry 
them, leaving Nancy to get out of the scrape the 
best way she could.” 

^^Poor child! how frightened she must have 
been.” 

Faith, then, she managed it better than the 
biggest of us could ever think of. I’ll be bound. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 177 

She began to cry, of course, and was for fol- 
lowing her parents the first thing; and when the 
two gentlemen hindered her and began their 
questions and soft talk, not a word could they 
get out of her but Irish/^ 

There was a hearty burst of laugjiter from all 
present. 

Success to little Nancy ! They were glad to 
let her go, Fm thinlfing.^^ 

Yes, she says the minister told the other to 
let her go her ways ; there could be nothing done 
in the school with such a creature.^^ 

I wonder what scheme they’ll try next for 
making converts,^’ said Mrs. O’Loughlin, in a 
sad tone. They have tried the virtue of famine 
and soup-houses and bible-reading, without suc- 
cess. Now they are trying to lead the poor 
children astray.^^ 

Yes, and isn’t it a cruel shame that we must 
either give up the poor little creatures to their 
teaching, or run the risk of seeing ourselves and 
them turned out of house and home?” 

It is an accursed system, and one that will 
work harm to its authors yet,” said Michael 
O^Loughlin. ^^Was ever such a thing heard of 
in a Christian land — aye, even in a heathen one 
for that matter — that fathers and mothers, who 


178 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

are trying to do their duty by the little ones 
God has given to their care, must see them led 
off to places where they will learn to despise 
alike their parents, their country and creed 

Father cried one of the children, running 
in almost out of breath, see the minister 
coming this way, and Mrs. Turner is with him, 
and another lady — Lord Woolcut^s daughter, I 
think.^^ ^ 

The guests started in a body to the door, 
anxious only to escape the dread trio. O'Lough- 
lin rushed towards the adjoining room, but no! 
the invaders would be sure to search for him 
there. He looked around despairing — a huge 
chest in one corner seemed to offer shelter : he 
crouched between it and the wall, and his wife 
had just time to fling a pile of clothes over it, 
put the light on the other side of the room, and 
pretend to be busy with her needle, when the 
unwelcome party made their appearance. 

An unseasonable visit, I fear you will think, 
Mrs. O’Loughlin,^' said the parson, in his most 
cordial tone, and with his ever ready smile; 

but we chose an hour when your husband 
would be most likely to be found at home, having 
particular business with him. Where is he V* 
The ladies had meanwhile taken seats, and 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP, 179 

Mrs. O’Loughlin avoided the necessity of re- 
plying by affecting to give her entire attention 
to them. But'Mr. Eobinson was not to be put 
off. He repeated his question with some asperity. 

Indeed he was here a few moments ago/' 
said the perplexed wife. A few friends were 
sitting with us" — and turning towards the chil- 
dren, but not looking at them, she added, could 
he have stepped out with any of them ?" 

Poor Mrs. O'Loughlin was a novice at equivo- 
cation j the three pairs of sharp eyes fixed upon 
her saw through her at once. Mr. Eobinson an- 
nounced his intention of making a thorough 
search for the missing member of the family. 
He glanced towards the neighboring apartment 
as he spoke, but happening to see one of the 
children glance furtively at the chest, he sprang 
towards it, and quickly discovered the object of 
his search, who finding concealment useless, come 
forward laughing good-humoredly at his own 
discomfiture as he respectfully saluted his fair 
visitors. 

That is not right, O'Loughlin," said the 
minister, in a tone of raillery. ^^Even if you 
were determined not to show hospitality to me, 
I should think an Irishman's gallantry would 
forbid him running away from the ladies." 


180 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

True for you, sir,^^ said OXoughlin. But 
your reverence knows well we must flee from 
temptation ; and when a poor Irishman sees fair 
ladies coming as he fears to besiege him to do 
something his conscience forbids, what can he do 
but run away, since his gallantry makes him 
loth to say nay to the charming tempters 

I am glad to find you willing to admit the 
necessity of yielding, said Mrs. Turner, glancing 
smilingly at O’Loughlin and then at the Bishop’s 
daughter; for we have come this evening de- 
termined to take no denial, so you may as well 
yield with a good grace. May he not, Mrs. 
O’Loughlin 

Very pleasant was the lady’s tone, and her 
manner full of that grace and persuasiveness on 
which she particularly prided herself, but the 
distressed parents might be pardoned for deem- 
ing her imperious and disagreeable. Yet what 
could they do ? The minister took up the sub- 
ject, and it was vain to ofl*er any excuse for not 
sending the children to the Lord Bishop’s schools. 
The father represented that the oldest girls were 
required at home, particulaly since Kathleen’s 
departure, to help their mother; but this plea 
was met by a proposition from Mrs. Turner that 
they might come on alternate days, when they 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 181 

could not both be spared. And the minister and 
Miss Woolcut intimated pretty plainly that Kath- 
leen^s marriage to a contumacious rebel like her 
cousin had brought the family under suspicion ; 
and that if her father wished to retain his land 
It behooved him not to give further offence to his 
lordship^ the Lord Bishop. So the visit ended 
as might have been foreseen. The zealous trio 
departed triumphantly, leaving sad hearts where 
they had found peace and happiness. The pa- 
rents blamed themselves for a compliance ex- 
torted from them, but still the question arose — 
what else could they have done? Ah, bitter 
question ! Henceforth remorse would embitter 
every hour; they could but pray that their chil- 
dren's faith might be preserved amid the temp- 
tations to which they were unhappily obliged to 
expose them. 



CHAPTER XI. 

The Regans. 





T was a rainy day of the old-fashioned, 
, genuine sort, such as can nowhere be 
; enjoyed in greater perfection than in 
Ireland during the fall of the year. A 
rainy day in the spring is pleasant 
and cheering. One can almost see 
the brown boughs swell and brighten 
with the promise of coming leafiness — the spring- 
ing grass takes a softer hue — the fields of early 
grain hold up their slender spears to receive the 
precious liquid which is to contribute its share to 
the plenteousness of the harvest — the streamlets, 
released from their icy fetters, swell fuller and 
broader as they go singing through woodland 
and meadow — there is beauty, and life, and 
2:)romise in a spring rain. 

And in summer, what can be more welcome 
than a rainy day after a long spell of drought 
and heat! The parched earth greedily drinks 
the bright gift of the clouds — the drooping 
( 182 ) 


OK, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 183 

flowers hold up their cups for the pearly drops, 
and, gaining a new lease of beauty, give thanks 
by bursting into gayer bloom, and shedding a 
delicious aroma on the pure, cool breeze — the 
lowliest specimen of the vegetable creation 
brightens into beauty under its sprays and clus- 
ters of diamonds and pearls — the bright surface 
of pond and lake breaks into a thousand dimples — 
the beasts of the field mutely welcome the re- 
freshing shower-bath — and man, the proud lord 
of creation, whose energy and spirit had yielded 
to the enervating influence of the heated spell, 
feels new life and strength in every nerve. 

Even in winter, a rainy day, if disagreeable^ 
has yet its compensations. It breaks in on the 
monotony of frost and snow, and tells that winter 
is breaking up ; that the rigid rule of the ice-king 
is coming to an end. But in the autumn, when 
the fruits of the earth have been gathered in, 
and the bright glory of the changing season has 
passed, a rainy day has not one redeeming feature 
to win for it welcome or even tolerance. The 
rain comes with no soft, soothing fall — no cheery 
^^pat, patter’’ — but hour after hour it drizzles 
down from the leaden clouds with a dull, dogged 
obstinacy, holding forth no prospect of a let-up, 
for as it is to-day it will probably be to-morrow 
and the day after. 


184 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


Late in the afternoon of such a day a woman 
stood at the door of a cabin, looking out upon a 
dreary expanse of waste grounds and bleak hills. 
Her face pale, anxious and careworn, yet with a 
mild, lovable expression, told a sad tale of long- 
continued suffering and privation patiently en- 
dured. If to the spoiled favorite of fortune, 
surrounded by all the appliances of home-comfort, 
that ‘^tiresome rain^^ was exasperating and in- 
tolerable, to her, as marking the commencement 
of the dreary winter, it might well seem ap- 
palling. For poverty — hopeless, pinching po- 
verty was her portion, even in the bright sum- 
mer-time, and in winter — O ! none but the good 
God whose fatherly care extends to every one of 
His creatures can know how life is supported 
during the long winter by those whose utter 
destitution allows no provision to be made against 
its inclemency. 

And what a miserable place was that for 
human beings to inhabit ! The damp, mouldy 
walls; the thatched roof, black and decayed; the 
loose, shrunken casements, which, if they offered 
but little light to the interior, gave admittance 
to the rain and the wind ; all presented an aspect 
of repulsive wretchedness. In summer this was 
not so apparent. When the time-stained walls 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 185 

were covered with creeping vines, and the 
blackened thatch and crumbling eaves hidden 
by the feathery foliage of the elm that now, 
gaunt and bare, was creaking dismally in the 
wind, it was one of those picturesque thatched 
cabins,^^ that made so pretty a feature in the 
wild magnificence of Connaught scenery. But 
now that the fall sprites had rudely torn away 
its few poor adornments, it stood revealed in its 
true character as a miserable, dilapidated hovel, 
from which those would turn away in disgust 
who had lately pronounced it quite sweet — a 
cosy little spot. Its external aspect was a true 
indication of its interior. The two small rooms, 
with smoke-blackened walls and mud fioors worn 
into hollows, were but scantily supplied with the 
poorest kind of household goods, to which no 
labor could impart a look of tidiness or comfort. 
Yet this wretched cabin was the abode of seven 
human beings. 

No wonder that poor Johanna Began felt sad 
and forlorn as she stood in the doorway that 
bleak November afternoon, gazing over the 
dreary expanse of hill and dale, as if in search of 
something to divert her thoughts from the ever 
present burden of care and misery. But the 
scene presented nothing to cheer or I)eguile her 


186 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

mind. The cold rain that had shorn her poor 
hut of its beauty, had as ruthlessly despoiled the 
landscape of the last remnant of autumnal glory. 
Forests, hills and hedges were all alike bleak and 
dreary ; the earth soaked and bare, with deep 
puddles, and gullies, and hollows, half choked 
with withered leaves; the leaden sky frowning 
down pitilessly over all. Never had the long- 
tried woman been so utterly cast down ; trials 
and troubles were accumulating, and she felt 
herself completely miserable and forsaken. Had 
she forgotten that gracious promise? — I will 
be with thee in six troubles, and in the seventh 
I will not forsake thee V* Ah ! to all the poor 
children of affliction there comes a season of 
doubt and gloom, when this world is only a 
place of misery insupportable, and heaven seems 
very far away — when the worn spirit, tortured 
and tried by struggles that seem to have no end, 
yield unconsciously to the tempter's darkest 
wiles, and for a moment abandons itself to gloomy 
despair. 

But see ! down yonder hillside comes a boyish 
form, taking no heed of drizzling rain or cutting 
wind, though his thin garments are but poor 
protection against the weather. Down he comes, 
springing over ruts and gullies, dashing through 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 187 

puddles too wide for a leap, bounding onward in 
breathless haste, yet instinctively, as it were, 
choosing the spots which offer fewest obstacles 
to his progress. And now his quick eyes have 
caught a glimpse of the lonely figure at the cabin 
door, and he checked his headlong speed to get 
breath for a loud shout. She does not see him 
yet; her eyes are fixed vacantly on some far off 
object. 

‘^Mother! oh, mother!'^ 

The loud, joyous call brings back her wander- 
ing thoughts; she turns, and with eyes now 
brightened with love, watches the boy who is 
bounding forward. She has scarcely time to 
wonder at his unexpected appearance, ere he 
stands beside her, panting for breath, his cheeks 
in a hot glow, his eyes ablaze with pleasurable 
excitement. 

What brings you home so early, acushla 
is the mother’s first thought; her second, ere he 
has time to answer her — Mickey, child, how wet 
you are! come to the fire an' take off your 
jacket till I dry it — dear, dear." 

No, mother — I’ve no time to stop. I havn't 
got a minute — " 

But you’re wet from head to foot, poor boy." 

Oh, never mind that, mother. I’ll be wetter 


188 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

still before many minutes/^ and the careless 
laughter of boyhood rang out merrily. have 
only come to tell you my good luck. Just think, 
mother — I’m to be ^Paid Monitor’ after New 
Year’s ! isn’t that grand ? The master told it to 
me this afternoon as a secret, so nobody must 
know it but you — and Bernard, of course. Then 
I shall have some money to bring you now and 
then, mother dear; and see here, mother;” and 
the excited boy put a shilling and a few pence 
inte her hand. 

God be praised for sending me this relief,” 
said the mother : but, Mickey, tell me, whei'e 
did you get all this money.” 

Dr. Hunter stopped at the school and gave me 
the shilling for going of an errand to one of his 
patients. He had forgotten to leave some direc- 
tions with the nurse, and didn’t want to go back. 
And the nurse was at a sad loss for some snuff,” 
added the boy laughing, so I got it for her, and 
she told me to keep the change. And now I 
must run back to school.” 

^^What for, Micky? Sure school will be out 
by the time you get there.” 

That’s my reason for hurrying. The children 
will be coming home, and I can't trust Alley ivith 
Pat — he's too wildj" said Mickey very gravely. 


ORj THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 189 

He would think no harm in getting her to run 
down the hills after him, and they so slippery 
now from the rain. So I must hurry to meet 
: them. But, say, mother,’’ how wistful the bright 
! eyes grew as he pressed nearer to whisper, ‘‘may 
I have a penny to get one of Granny Joyce’s 
little custards for Bernard, he’s so fond of them^ 
mother, and they’re only a penny, and ’tis long 
since he had one.” 

“ God help you, agra ! one would think ’twas 
for yourself you’re pleading. Yes, to he sure you 
can get one, but, Mickey, ’tisn’t in your way 
back to the school.” 

“ O, ’tis only a little further, I’ll run there as I 
go, mother.” 

“ Go, then, an’ Heaven’s blessin’ go wid you, 
good boy that you are, always thinkin’ of the 
sick brother^” said the woman pressing a kiss on 
the open brow of her open-hearted child, “ an’ 
here, Micky, take the rest of the pennies an’ buy 
some gingerbread that you’ll be eating as you 
come home, an’ mind,, now, that you keep a share 
of it to yourself,” she called after the boy, as 
with a bright glance he bounded away. 

“ Sure, it’s seldom they get a mouthful of what 
they like, the creatures — nothin’ but Indian meal 
an’ potatoes, an’ not always enough of them 


190 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

same/^ she said to herself, as she watched the 
form that rapidly disappeared. Then with a 
heart lightened of half its load of care by this 
little incident, she turned back into the cabin, 
stirred up the smoky turf to a blaze, and got out 
a few well patched garments for the children, 
who, as she murmured “wouldn't have a dry 
thread on them by the time they got home — the 
creatures!" Next she stepped lightly into the 
inner room, and bent over a miserable bed; its 
occupant was asleep, so gathering the covering 
more closely around him, she stole back to the 
kitchen, to muse over “ Mickey's" news, which, 
though seemingly a piece of good luck, she could 
not help considering as a misfortune. The salary 
he would receive as “ Paid Monitor" would be of 
great help; that was undeniable: but she had 
never been able to regard the children's attend- 
ance at Lord Woolcut's school as anything but a 
snare laid for their faith. And now to give fur- 
ther countenance to the proselytizing institution, 
by having her boy engaged as one of its teachers 
— the thought was a grievous one to the faithful, 
simple-hearted woman. She could not thank 
God for the prospect of relief thus afforded, for 
she felt that He was not the author of this good 
luck. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 191 

No, no she said half aloud and shaking her 
head sadly, ‘‘ I could praise the Lord for putting 
it into the minds of others to employ Mickey this 
day, an’ by this means sending us the help so 
wanted sore; but 1 can't thank Him for having 
my boy employed among the enemies of His 
Church, an' being, maybe, the means of drawing 
others into the snare. An' Mickey, he's a good 
pious child, our Lady be praised ! but still he's 
only a child, an' what if they lead him astray, 
for now he’ll be more under their eyes, as I may 
say, an' minister, an' teachers, an' sexton, will 
all be tryin' to pervert him." 

This thought was a terrible one to the faithful 
mother, but whab could she do ? She could only 
pray and watch over her children more carefully 
than ever, and carry her new trouble to the 
saintly priest whose time was ever at the dis- 
posal of his flock — he would advise her. And by 
New Year’s her husband would be at home — (he 
was away at work now on a distant part of his 
lordship’s property,) and perhaps by that time 
he would be disposed to give some heed to her 
fears, and remove his children from the influences 
she dreaded. 

The school was more than a mile distant, and 
the short afternoon was giving place to dusky 


192 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


twilight, when, under Mickey^s leadership, the 
three children reached their home. Eunning up 
to their mother for a welcoming “hug/^ they pro- 
ceeded at her desire to change their dripping 
garments for those she had airing/^ Mick had 
brought a little parcel of something beside the 
custard, and to his mother's question, ^^Why, 
then, what have you there, Mickey?" — spoken 
less through curiosity than from her habit of 
taking an interest in all their little affairs — he, 
with mingled shyness and pleasure opened the 
paper, and displayed a bit of coarse fresh beef. 

To-morrow is wash-day, you know, mother; 
an we thought you'd like a cup of hot broth." 

The mother looked with swelling heart from 
one to another of the little group, now turning 
away to hide the conscious smiles and blushes 
that sprung so naturally to the faces of happy, 
affectionate children. With a gush of emotion 
she embraced the loving boys and girls who had 
denied themselves the rare treat of gingerbread in 
order to afford ‘^acup of broth" to their mother, 
and while eagerly lavishing on them kisses and 
caresses, murmured, Oh, then, may our Father 
in heaven pardon all my want of trust in His 
never failing mercy ! an' may He bless you, each 
an' every one, for good children that you are, 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 193 

ever an^ always ! ^Tis quick enough I am^ at 
counting my troubles an^ woes, when I should 
rather be thinking of all the blessings our good 
God sends me/^ 

^^Now darlings,'' she added, ^^you may be set- 
ting the table while I go see after our pgor 
Bernard." 

Setting the table was an important business, 
in which Pat and Susy, and little Alley all liked 
to take a part. It was now accomplished with 
no little bustle and merriment, and the tallow, 
candle in its wooden candlestick placed in the 
centre, to give brilliancy to the supper table, ere 
the mother and Mickey emerged from the inner 
room, sustaining the feeble steps of Bernard, the 
ailing boy, whom consumption had plainly 
marked as its victim. He was soon placed at the 
warmest side of the table, with Mickey close at 
hand to attend to him with loving solicitude^ 
while the mother proceeded to put the food on 
the table. 

knew you had cakes, mother," said Susy; 
smelt them baking when I came home." 

And so did I," chimed in Pat; while Alley, 
the pet youngest one, clapped her little hands 
gleefully at sight of the corn cakes which were 
to constitute the evening repast. 


194 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

A carefully twisted paper was laid before Ber- 
nard; who with languid curiosity began to unroll 
it, as he said with a wan smile, I know just 
what this is, mother; it's one of Peg Joyce's cus- 
tards, isn't it, now ? Say, Mickey ?" 

^lad tears moistened the eyes of Mother" 
and ^‘Mickey," as they saw the pleasure this 
anticipation gave him ; and the children paused 
in their eager enjoyment of the cakes to watch 
Bernard curiously, it was seldom that they now 
heard his once merry voice. 

Why then, where would we be getting a cus- 
tard?" said Johanna, humoring him; ‘^you must 
give another guess, Bernard, darling."* 

It's one of Peg's custards an' nothing else," 
persisted the sick lad. If 'tisn't I lose my guess 
— there, now, I'm wrong after all, for 'tie two of 
them." With a feeble attempt at merriment he 
held up his treasures, ‘^you were right, mother, 
Hisn't a custard you'd be getting, but custards — 
oh, but they're beauties!" and his hollow eyes 
lighted up faintly as he surveyed the rare treat. 

Why, then, it puzzles me to know where the 
two came from." 

‘‘I know," said Micky, ^^I asked Granny to 
pick me out a nice brown one, for Bernard likes 
them brown, and her daughter at the same 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 195 

moment asked how Bernard was getting; so 
while I was answering her, Peg just slipped in 
two custards for the price of one/^ 

“Long life to her,^^ said Johanna, “she has a 
good heart if she had but the means of showing 
it. Though, indeed, wherever a good heart is, 
it finds some way of showing itself, an’ that Peg 
Joyce proves to us. No, agra, not a morsel,’’ 
this to Bernard, who was insisting that she 
would share his dainties — “nor the children 
either,” giving them a warning look to refuse, 
which they did with cheerful obedience. 

“We’re having hot cakes all to ourselves. 
Master Bernard,” added Pat. “ Oh, but they are 
good.” 

“ That they are,” said Susy; “ why don’t you 
make them for us often, mother ?” 

“ I like them ever so much better than stir- 
about,” chimed in Alley. 

“Do you then, darling?” said the mother, 
evading an answer to Susan. She had not the 
heart to tell them that the precious corn meal 
went further in the homely stirabout than in the 
more palatable form of hot cakes. “ You’ll have 
to get some more meal before you go to school 
in the morning, children : the last dust I had of 
it went in them cakes, but Mickey’s shilling will 


196 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUaHT; 

get US some more, praise be to Him that sends 
us the help always when we're in greatest need.'' 

You're not going back to bed right away, 
Bernard, agra," she said, as Susey was helping 
her to clear the table; You're looking so much 
better to-night, maybe you could sit with us a 
bit." 

Yes, Bernard was better, and more lively than 
for many a day past, owing to the little excite- 
ment attending the unusual feast ; and he gladly 
took possession of the chimney corner ; while the 
mother sat down to the sewing by which she 
earned an occasional shilling or sixpence, among 
the villagers who were better otf or less handy 
than herself; and the children drew close around 
the table with their books, to learn the lessons 
for the following day. For a time there was 
silence, save when Mickey interrupted his studies 
to relate something which might serve to amuse 
mother" or Bernard. 

What's that you're at now, Mick ?" said the 
latter presently. 

Geography." 

‘^Is it an interesting part? read us some of 
your next lesson." 

Mickey complied. 

That's not as interesting as the big geography 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 197 

the master lets you learn out of sometimes, is it, 
Mick said Pat. My but thafs hard though.^^ 

I like it better than this. The lesson I had 
in it day before yesterday was a fine one,^^ and 
Mickey threw back the clustering hair from his 
forehead and repeated the lesson he deemed so 
interesting. 

Why, how can you keep it in your head from 
one day to another?'^ asked Pat, who had lis- 
tened in astonishment to the accurate recitation. 

I study my tasks well — you know, Mickey, I 
always keep at the head of my class — but as soon 
as I have repeated them to the master I forget 
all about them.^^ 

Then whaPs the use of your learning them 
at all said sensible Mickey. ^^As long as we 
have to go where we should not go by right, we 
ought to try to gain all the good we can from it, 
as mother often tells us. And whereas the use 
of the knowledge if ^tis forgotten as soon as 
learned.*^ 

‘‘ But the tasks are so hard,^^ grumbled Pat. 

^^Hard! Pm ashamed of you — such baby les- 
sons for a great fellow like you. But keep to 
your books, Bernard is company to-night, and I 
must not neglect him to talk to you.’^ 

Bernard smiled faintly on the bright, hand- 


198 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

some boy who now turned to him with an ex- 
pression of unutterable fondness. 

You're a lucky fellow, Mickey, to be learning 
out of all them fine books,’' he said with a sigh. 

Learning’s a grand thing. I remember when 
I used to be longing for a chance of it;” he 
paused for a moment, then noticing the troubled 
look of his mother and brother, he added with an 
effort to speak cheerfully, But I’ll soon have 
more knowledge than any of you, and that with- 
out studying for it — please God, I’ll be where is 
all the wisdom and knowledge before long.” 

A stifled sob broke from the mother. Unwil- 
ling to disturb the brief respite he was now en- 
joying from the weakness that was gradually 
wearing his young life away, she stooped down 
pretending to fix the fire, but finding that re- 
source fail, betook herself to the inner room to 
give vent to her anguish and seek the strength 
and endurance needful to support her under this 
sorrow. Hard was it to a mother’s heart to 
know that that dear boy was slowly but surely 
going down to the grave — harder yet to feel her 
inability to make the brief remnant of his exist- 
ence comfortable and happy. He looked after 
her with wistful eyes: the only grief that the 
knowledge of his early doom caused him, was the 
thought of leaving that tender mother. 


OK, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 199 

You will take care of her, Mick/' he said to 
the brother who had thrown his arms around 
the invalid with passionate fondness. You’ll 
be more to my mother than ever I could be, for 
you are strong and hearty, and have good chances 
that you’re making the most of. So that you are 
like to do well — but hush ! here she comes.” 

This is my history,” said Mick pleasantly, 
making an eifort to dispel the gloom that now 
pervaded the little circle. After all, though, I 
like all my books well enough, this is the pleas- 
antest task — pleasantest ! what would become of 
me if the master heard me say that ?” 

Whew, but you’d get a scolding — he’d think 
you were taking pattern by Jim Connor,” said 
Pat with a loud laugh, in which Mick joined. 

How’s that ?” asked Bernard. 

^‘Well, you see,” began Mick, Mr. Turner 
declares it’s almost as bad as an emetic to him to 
hear our barbarous Irish way of confusing and 
confounding the comparatives and superlatives. 
He talks by the half hour to the second grammar 
class about being ^ careful of their adjeetives/ but 
^tis no manner of use, they persist in misun- 
derstanding him, especially Jim Connor, the great 
rogue, who pretends to take immense pains to 
learn the rules, but in vain. The master will call 


200 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


out — ^ Who was that just now said delightfullest T 
or, ^ What boy was it that said another of the 
scholars was knoioinger than himself? It was 
James Connor, I’ll warrant. How often must I 
tell you, sir, that in such cases the degrees of 
comparison must he expressed by more and most, 
not by er and est f Never let me hear such bar- 
barisms from you again. Jim : always say most 
delightful — more knowing — and so on/ ‘Yes, 
sir, ril be sure and think of it from this out, sir,^ 
Jim will reply as meek as a lamb, and the very 
same day perhaps, Mr. Turner will hear him 
saying — ‘ This is the most fine jacket I ever had,’ 
or, ‘ His knife is more sharper than mine.’ Then 
you ought to hear the master call ! Gracious ! 
he makes us all jump. ‘More of your stupid 
blunders. Master Jim — will you never learn that 
words of one syllable are compared by er and est, 
not by more and most?’ To which Jim makes 
answer — ‘ Aif sure, sir, ’twas only just now you 
told me to let you hear no more of my er and est 
— ^you called them barbarians, or some such 
name, indeed you did, master dear.’ Then the 
master loses patience — a common habit with 
him — and tries to make his bright scholar under- 
stand the er and est — more and most, by a touch 
of his cane ; and a few days afterwards when he 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 201 

has forgotten the whole matter, Jim renews the 
trouble by some such gibberish as — ‘ It’s the 
most harder lesson we ever had.’ Then there is 
a renewal of former scenes, but all of no avail, 
for it was only yesterday that Jim almost put 
the master in a fit by declaring that ‘ of all in- 
ventions of man or devil, them same compara- 
tives and superlatives were the most hatefuler- 
est.’ You Pat, stop screeching as if you were 
out on the mountains.” 

Oh, we had all like to split,” cried Pat, trying 
to check his boisterous mirth at the recollection, 

and, Bernard, you never saw a madder man 
than the teacher.” 

“ Master Jim is more impudent than ignorant, 
I think,” said Bernard, after the laughter had 
subsided. 

To be sure he is ; he’s impudenter, as he 
would say, than all the rest of the boys to- 
gether.” 

^‘But why does the master allow it? that’s 
what seems strange to me,” said the disapi)roving 
mother. 

Because he cannot help it,” replied Mick. 

Why, mother, Jim is the very picture of inno- 
cence on such occasions, and though Mr. Turner 
may think that it is all assumed for the purpose 
of blinding him, still he cannot be positive.” 


202 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


that Andrew Connor’s Jim ? But no, of 
course it isn’t : his children are all past the age 
for sendin’ to school.’^ 

But he sends one there for all that, mother. 
Mr. Turner met him soon after taking charge of 
the school, it seems, and discoursed so eloquently 
on the advantages flowing from a good education, 
that the poor man was quite overpowered with 
grief at having no gossoon of an age to enjoy 
these advantages. Will you be quiet, Pat? 
You’re always the noisiest fellow.” 

O mother, you’d most die of laughing if you 
heard Jim describe it,” interposed the noisy 
fellow. 

Besides,” resumed Mick, Andrew thought 
it a shameful thing to be refusing a stranger, so 
while he was mumbling out in some way his ex- 
cuses for ^having no children just now to send 
to his honor, seeing that they were all somewhat 
grown as one might say.’ Mr. Turner inter- 
rupted him in his careless way, ‘Yes, yes; of 
course they are useful to you, and a poor man 
can scarcely be expected to spare his children 
w^hen they get large enough to help him. But 
is there none of them you could spare for a time ? 
the youngest, say, or some one that is not so 
good at working ? ‘ Why, indeed,’ says Connor, 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 203 


^ the youngest one's a bit of an idler, an' I ^spose 
I could spare him at times, bu.t — ’ Here he 
broke down, and Mr. Turner began to urge him 
by all means to send the boy. ^ I'm afraid he 
; won't be willin' to go, your honor,' says Andrew. 
1^0, never mind that, just send him — he'll soon 
get over his backwardness, and there will be no 
fear of his being ridiculed in my school. It is 
hard, certainly, for a grown lad to find himself 
learning the rudiments with those that are 
younger, but that should only stimulate him to 
learn faster.' ^ Then that's true for you, sir,' said 
Connor; ^ and, indeed, James has some little 
I notion of readin' an' writin' already, if I don't 
mistake, for he was always a smart sort of a 
I boy.' ^ Then it would be criminal in you to keep 
j him back ; send him as regularly as you can — 
I'll not be severe on him for missing a day now 

I and then when you really need his help.' ^ The 
saints be good to your honor — 'tis yourself's a 
gentleman all out,' says Connor, and the teacher 
went on his way overjoyed at his success, little 
imagining that James was a full grown man, 
bigger than himself We could see that he Avas 
disappointed in his new pupil when he made his 
first appearance, but he evidently tries to make 
the best of his bargain, and a bad bargain it is, 
as Jim says." 


204 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

O, but Jim^s a cute one/^ said Pat admiringly. 
^^He^s a bad boy, Fm afraid/^ said Johanna; 
and 1 hope you’ll take care not to fall into his 
ways.” 

Me ! oh, murder — the teacher would kill me 
outright if I was to serve him as Jim Connor 
does,” said Pat, laughing heartily. 

‘‘ ’Tiis good that there’s something to keep you 
from bein’ led astray by his example,” con- 
tinued the prudent mother. ^^It ill becomes 
boys or girls to give impudence to them that’s 
teaching them what may be useful enough some 
day — if they don’t pay too dear for it mean^ 
while,” added she, after a pause, for she never 
could banish her dread of the sectarian influence 
of the schools. ^‘Does Jim get Bible tasks as 
well as the rest 

Oh, such tasks !” laughed Mick. ‘‘ There’s 
little danger that he will ever be called on to 
display his scriptural knowledge to visitors. 
Indeed, it is a shame the way he turns and 
twists every Bible lesson that is given to^him 
into every meaning but the right one ; and when 
Mr. Turner reproves him, he puts on his inno- 
cent look, and, in the drollest brogue he can 
muster, answers, ‘ Sure, an’ that’s all the sense 
myself can make out of it, sir.’ I told him the 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 205 

other day that he ought to be ashamed of such 
doings/^ 

^^Well, what did he say to that?'^ asked Ber- 
nard. 

He rolled his eyes about in that comical way 
you may have noticed in his brother Larry, and 
said, ^ Whist, Mick ! What a simple spalpeen 
you are. Musn’t I make use of my right of pri- 
vate judgment? Parson Robinson is always 
saying that every living creature has that right, I 
don’t know whether he counts the cows and 
horses in w^ith the rest, and many a time I tried 
to ask him, only Pm so bashful, somehow the 
words stick in my throat/ I told him I thought 
he was often guilty of irreverence, as Mr. Turner 
tells him. On which he set up a laugh, and 
asked me if I didn’t think I was talking great 
nonsense. ‘Sure it isn’t the real Bible, you 
know, Mick, but only a book of king James, my 
holy namesake ; an’ havn’t I as much right to 
make game of that book as any other ?’ ” 

“How he must try the master,” said Bernard, 
who had listened with all a boy’s interest in such 
doings; “the only thing I wonder at is that he 
puts up with it.” 

“What can he do, Bernard? thafs the ques- 
tion.” 


206 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUOHT; 

Oh, if you could only see him,^' cried Pat, 
exultingly. 

Indeed, it^s bad enough to hear of him,^’ said 
Johanna. ‘‘ I only wonder at such conduct in 
one of his father’s children. Jim always seems 
to me to be well behaved in church.’^ 

‘^Yes, and everywhere else where he wants 
to ; but you see, mother, he doesn’t want to go 
to school, and only goes for the sake of mischief. 
And the only way of stopping him would be to 
expel him, and that Mr. Turner doesn’t want to 
do. And then he gets around the teacher so 
cunningly. Sometimes, when he thinks he has 
gone rather too far, he gets very solemn, and 
pays the greatest attention to the next lesson ; 
and when the recitation is over, you ought to 
hear him talking, as if to himself, while he knows 
all the time that every one around can hear him, 
‘Oh, then, it’s grand to be in a school like this. 
Won’t I get every one of my little nephews and 
nieces here, according as they get big enough ? 
’Tis well off they’ll be to have the luck of coming 
. when they’re small.’ Then he heaves the deep- 
est sigh you ever heard, and Mr. Turner looks 
at him so pitifully, believing that the poor fellow 
is most heart broken because he has not had 
such luck; and so the rogue is freely forgiven 
his past misdeeds.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


The Proselytisers Defeated. 



HE school exercises on Hew Yearns Eve 

9 

went off with great eclat. The Lord 
Bishop and his daughter were present, 
with a select party of visitors from the 
palace the Doctor and the agent, with 
their respective families, together with other 
notabilities, graced the occasion; all lavish of 
compliments, protesting that the teachers had 
been remarkably successful this first year, and 
predicting that they would be still more so 
during the coming one. 

Mick Began, now appointed ‘‘paid monitor, 
was presented in due form by his teacher to the 
great people. He received from his lordship the 
comfortable assurance that “ he had done very 
well indeed;’^ a few words of praise and a sove- 
reign from some of the visitors; and from the 
Hon. Miss Woolcut a condescending smile, 
which, from so proud and beautiful a lady, should 
( 207 ) 


208 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

have been esteemed a guerdon worth toiling for, 
worth dying for. But Mick, with all the perver- 
sity of his race; scorned it as having no warmth 
or sincerity in it; and as he went back to his 
place, he recollected many of the triumphs he 
had obtained in the catechism class, when “ Miss 
Margaret/’ with her own beaming smile, would 
say, ‘^Well done, Mick; you’ll make me quite 
proud of my success in teaching;” and thought 
his present success would seem worth something 
if she were there to reward him with one of her 
bright glances. 

But she had not been invited to the opening; 
neither had Father Dillon, an omission which 
sadly perplexed those who had accepted as gos- 
pel truth all the curate’s assurances of the liberal 
and truly Catholic spirit in which the schools were 
to be conducted. The omission seemed all the 
more surprising to those credulous individuals, 
inasmuch as clergymen of various denominations 
were present, from neighboring parishes. Several 
of these gentlemen made addresses, in which the 
zeal and liberality of the noble patron and pa- 
troness, and the ability of the devoted teachers 
were lauded to the skies; and promises were 
kindly given by the clerical speakers, that during 
the. ensuing year they would deliver occasional 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 209 

lectures to the scholars on matters connected 
with their moral and religious instruction. This 
promise, which was quickly made known to all 
the inhabitants of Bartrymore, created not a 
little consternation among those deluded Cutho- 
lics who had suffered themselves to be cajoled or 
frightened into sending their children to the 
Lord Bishop’s school, in despite the repeated 
warnings of their zealous pastor. They could 
now understand how they had been cunningly 
entrapped, and they had dismal forebodings of 
coming ill. 

Johanna Eegan^s fears, always on the alert, 
were redoubled. Poor woman ! It seemed as 
if she were destined never to be free from care 
and trouble; for this fresh burden of anxiety 
came just when she had begun to enjoy a little 
respite from want and sorrow. Bernard’s illness 
had taken one of those favorable turns which 
mark the progress of consumption, awakening 
alike in the invalid and anxious friends hopes of 
final recovery. Mrs. Turner was very attentive 
to the sick boy; many little comforts had found 
the way from the parsonage to the poor cabin, 
and ‘‘ the wolf,” which had growled so threaten- 
ingly at the door in the beginning of the winter, 
was no longer dreaded. Barney — the head of 


210 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUOHT; 

the house’' — basked in this little gleam of sun* 
shine with all the complacent satisfaction of a 
lazy man. Small impression did his wife’s fears 
of the pi osleytisers make on his mind ; and he 
only began to reason on the matter when she 
besought him to commence the New Year by 
taking his children from the school. 

^^Easy, now, Johanna; never hollo till you’re 
hurt. No harm’s come to them yet through the 
school, and ’tisn’t likely to. Mickey’s a sensible 
boy : he knows his duty too well to be led astray 
by any bad teaching.” 

It’s not so much afraid for him I am, as for 
the others, Barney ?” 

<‘Aye, the others,” and Barney took a long 
puff at his pipe. Well, Pat ’ill be leaving there 
in the spring, and Susan would know in a minute 
if strange doctrines were preached to her, and 
Alley’s no more’n a baby; no fear of her. We’ll 
just let things rest as they are for a while any- 
how, and get all we can out of them.” 

But if they do try to turn any of them against 
their religion, Barney, will ye bring them home 
then ?” persisted the mother. 

<< Why wouldn’t I ? Do ye think I have no 
care at all for their souls, woman, or hav^ you 
enough of it for the pair of us ?” 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 211 

With this equivocal answer Johanna was forced 
to content herself ; but she resolved to redouble 
her care for the children. The necessity for this 
vigilance was soon evident. 

At the close of the school festival on New 
Year’s Eve, Mrs. Turner detained little Alley, 
telling Mick that she intended to keep her as 
long as her mother could spare her, or, at least 
during the holidays; there would be no school 
until the following week, and the child would be 
such pleasant company for her during those few 
days, especially as her husband was to be absent 
on business.” This arrangement was far from 
satisfactory to Alley’s mother. Mrs. Turner had 
more than once intimated a desire to have the 
child to bring up as her own ; and on Christmas 
day, when she had brought some little dainties 
to the sick youth, she exerted all her powers of 
persuasion in entreaties that Alley might be 
allowed to remain with her for the winter. The 
distance from the cabin to the school-house was 
too far for so young a child during the bad 
weather, and it would be a thousand pities to 
keep her at home until spring; by that time she 
would forget^ what she had already learned, and 
she was coming on so fast now, bright little 
thing as she was ! But Johanna had been proof 


212 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

against entreaties and reproaches ; and she now, 
much to her husband's chagrin, insisted that 
Mick should go the first thing after breakfast 
and bring the child home. In vain Barney pro- 
tested against an act which would give great 
offence to the people who only wanted to be kind 
to the wee creature.'' 

It's no use to be tryin' to blindfold mo, Bar- 
ney. To-morrow is a holiday, as you know; 
and, please God ! the child will go to mass along 
with her brothers and sister." 

And, true to her resolve, as soon as Mick had 
eaten his breakfast, she said to him : 

‘^Put on your cap, alanna, and go after your 
little sister, an' mind you don't leave that house 
without her. You needn't come all the way 
home; stop and see Mrs. O’Loughlin — she's 
always glad to see her godson — an' then go on 
to the church; we'll overtake you in time for 
mass." 

Barney, whose appearance but ill corresponded 
with the clean, tidy look of his family on this holy 
day, would not listen without expressing his dis- 
approval of this peremptory order. 

Can't you hear to reason, Johanna, and let 
the child stay where she'll be comfortable the 
day ? Well, have your own way, and much good 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 213 

it ’ill do you. Maybe they’d eat her if she was 
left to them a day.” 

She’s been up there longer than I want; but 
there was no help for it.” 

^^An’ you’re sendiif^ for her in spite of all? 
Well, well; it’s often I’ve heard that a pig is the 
stubbornest of all creatures; but, bedad, if a 
woman don’t beat him it’s a queer thing !” 

And with this profound reflection on the stub- 
bornness of his better half, Barney lighted his 
dudeen, and prepared to enjoy his holiday in his 
own lazy fashion, smoking and sleeping. But 
even he was startled that evening, when Alley, 
having said her prayers as usual at her mother’s 
knee, began to talk of the pretty prayer she had 
said to Mrs. Turner'^ the night before ; the child 
could not remember it — it was something about 
laying down to sleep, and pray the Lord ; but it 
was such ^'pretty prayer, and Mrs. Turner pro- 
mised to teach it to her, but ^lley wanted her 
mother to say it for her now. 

Why didn’t Alley say the prayers that mo- 
ther taught her, like a good child?” asked Jo- 
hanna. 

Alley did say them, but the mistress says 
‘Hail Mary’ and ‘Holy Mary’ is a bad, ugly 
prayer, and she says God will be angry with 


214 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Alley if she ever says them again/' And the 
little thing raised her large innocent eyes to her 
mother, with all a child’s perplexity, how to 
reconcile the contradictory teachings of the mo- 
ther she loved so dearly, and the schoolmistress 
who was so kind to her. 

Johanna Began, by a strong effort, kept back 
the bitter words that struggled for utterance : 
while compelled to send her children to the 
school, she would not teach any of them to dis- 
respect" the master or mistress. But when she 
returned to the kitchen, she made another attempt 
to convince her husband that the children’s faith 
was endangered by their attendance at the prose- 
lytising schools. In vain. He owned to feeling 
vexation at Mrs. Turner’s unwarrantable inter- 
ference ; but then, there was some back rent due, 
and it would be very inconvenient to displease 
his lordship just now; and, besides, Mick would 
be getting some wages along with his learning 
in the school — the temptation was too great to 
be resisted. 

‘^And there’ll be no more harm done,’’ he 
added, having put the subject before her in as 
favorable a light as he could; ^^as you say you 
won’t let the child go to the school any more — 
for the winter, at least." 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 215 

That I won’t, nor in the spring, either/’ re- 
plied the mother, energetically. ‘^And mind, 
children,” turning to the three who had been 
attentive listeners to the discussion, let none 
of you ever stay with them people a minute after 
school is out. Mind what I’m saying now — I 
want the three of you to come home together 
when the lessons are done, let the parson or the 
teachers coax you as they will. If ever one of 
you stays behind, it ’ill only be giving your mo- 
ther a long walk there after you.” 

^^Never fear, mother,” said Mick; ^<I know 
them now.” And the few words, uttered with 
such quiet firmness, assured the anxious parent 
that she need have no further apprehensions on 
that score. 

Mother,” said Bernard, suddenly, I’ve been 
thinking how the hand of God is in all you do. 
See how it would be with little Alley, if Mrs. 
Turner had got her from you for the winter. 
Didn’t I often wonder that you could hold out 
against all her pleading? and I thought more 
than once that it looked hard and ungrateful to 
refuse her what she seemed to have her heart 
set on.” 

So did I, agra ; but somehow, for all her 
smooth talking, I always mistrusted her; and 


216 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


the saints be praised that I held out against all 
her coaxin\ ^Twould be little of her prayers, or 
anything good, poor Alley would have at the 
end of the winter. Well, she’s safe from them, 
thank God ! and that’s one comfort we have this 
New Year’s night. And Bernard’s doin’ better, 
and that’s another blessing. You’re feeling 
better, ain’t you, Bernard, dear ?” 

Oh, yes, mother, a great deal better,” said 
the youth, cheerfully, looking up with a smile to 
the eyes bent as anxiously upon him. That 
smile, that cheerful tone, brought sunshine to 
the heart of the fond mother. 

‘‘ God bo praised !” was her joyful ejaculation. 
^^And may he give the grace of conversion to 
them that’s been good to you; with His help, 
you’ll be as well as ever, when the fine spring 
weather comes to us, Bernard.” 

Alas for hopes destined never to be realized ! 
The fine spring weather came, but brought no 
gift of healing to the consumptive boy ; and the 
sunshine of a bright May day streamed from the 
unclouded skies, as if in mockery of the poor 
mother’s woe, as she followed the pulseless form 
of her first-born to its resting place. It was on 
Sunday afternoon, and the church was thronged 
when the corpse was reverently borne in and 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 217 

laid before the holy altar, for that touching 
burial service with which the Church of God 
solemnly yields up her departed child to Him 
who has but reclaimed the spirit He lent for a 
time to earth. 

Father Dillon was much affected in reading 
the prayers, and, with tenderness and pathos that 
touched every heart, he spoke of the youth whoso 
place was no longer with men, but with angels. 
He dwelt on the piety, the fervent, unobtrusive 
virtue that had marked the course of that brief 
life; the toil, the suffering and privation, which, 
meekly borne, had won for him an eternal crown 
of glory; and, while holding up the bright ex- 
ample of the deceased to the younger members 
of his flock, he failed not to impress on the minds 
of parents the necessity of taking care of those 
precious souls that God had committed to them ; 
he dwelt on the dangers, to which some thought- 
lessly exposed them, of becoming indifferent to 
the religion which should be a thousand times 
dearer to them than life, and exhorted them to 
vigilant, unceasing care, lest those young hearts 
should lose the bright gift of faith bestowed on 
them by baptism, and become aliens and strang- 
ers to the creed which their forefathers had ad- 
hered to through ages of persecution. 


218 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

The coffin was lowered into the grave, the last 
prayers said, and the men had taken their shovels 
to perform the last sad duty over the dead, when 
the bereaved father put forth his hand to stay 
them. With choking utterance, but with a fer* 
vor unusual to him, he said : 

‘‘ My poor boy had but one trouble in leaving 
this world : it was the thought of his little bro- 
thers and sisters. I promised him before Father 
Dillon, and here, standin’ over his grave, I take 
you all to witness, that from this day no child 
of mine shall ever enter a Protestant school.^^ 

God bless you for that word, Barney,^' 
sobbed the faithful mother, “ you’ve taken half 
the load of woe from my heart.^^ 

Heaven grant you strength to keep your 
promise, spoke the sweet, solemn voice of his 
Pastor, and a fervent Amen was uttered by 
all around. 

When the mournful ceremony was concluded, 
and the crowd slowly dispersing, one after an- 
other came up to shake hands with Eegan in 
mingled sympathy and congratulation. Some 
spurred on by his example, and deeply impressed 
by the exhortation they had heard in the church, 
announced their intention of immediately remov- 
ing their children from the insidious influence 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORO BISHOP. 219 

against which the zealous priest had never failed 
to warn them. Others, among whom were the 
O^Loughlins, who had already withdrawn theii’ 
little ones from the snares of the proselytisers, 
stood forth to encourage their neighbors in adopt- 
ing a similar course. That day the baneful spell 
of Lord Woolcut^s influence over the peasantiy 
of Bar try more was broken forever — the work 
his artful co-operators had been so industriously 
pursuing was at an end ; the younglings of the 
fold were henceforward secure from their machi- 
nations. 

Consternation overwhelmed minister and 
teacher; the rage of the Lord Bishop was un- 
bounded. Were his known wishes to be thus 
set at defiance, his cunningly laid plans to be 
overthrown by these miserable, priest-ridden 
creatures ? Immediately, printed papers, in- 
forming them of his ‘‘ earnest desire'^ that their 
children should attend his schools, were circu- 
lated among them ; and his refractory tenants 
were warned of the consequences that would 
infallibly ensue if they continued disobedient. 
This proving ineffectual, ‘‘notice to quiV^ was 
served on those heads of families who had ex- 
cited the ire of the proselytising landlord. But 
all failed te reduce them to submission. En- 


220 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUaHT ; 


couraging each other to constancy, kept in the 
right path by the faithful and devoted pastor 
whom they regarded with almost idolatrous 
affection, sustained and strengthened by the holy 
Spirit of Fortitude/^ whom they were taught 
daily to invoke, the tenants of Lord Woolcut 
were proof against threat or bribe. The zealous 
parson found his occupation gone. The teachers 
looked mournfully around on the half empty 
benches, and despaired, as well they might, of 
ever seeing them filled. While, to add to their 
vexations. Father Dillon's schools were in the 
most flourishing condition. Most of the pupils 
lately withdrawn from the Bishop's schools," 
now attended them, and there was plainly need 
for larger buildings and additional teachers. 
What a triumph for the self-sacrificing priest ! 
what an exemplification of the spirit which ani- 
mates that Faith which alone can work such 
wonders in the midst of opposition, contumely, 
and oppression, ever quietly extending her em- 
pire, and attaching her children to her with the 
imperishable bonds of love ! 



CHAPTER XIII. 


The Evictions. 





T was the afternoon of a cold, raw day, 
late in November. All day heavy 
clouds had hung over the sky, with 
an occasional gleam of sunshine, which 
only made the succeeding gloom more 
dreary. Now the wind swept fiercely 
down from the bleak mountains, the 
scattered clouds were gathered into 
dense masses, that betokened a coming tempest. 
From the wild hills that surrounded Bartrymore, 
a strange scene might have been witnessed; 
strange, that is, in any other land than Erin; 
but, alas, what phase of misery, of brutal oppres- 
sion, is unfamiliar to that ill-fated country ! 
Around a barrack — one of the five which the 
Lord Bishop had thought necessary for the en- 
forcement of his legal rights — several groups of 
constabulary were assembling, in evident expec- 
tation of work to be done. Presently another 
( 221 ) 


222 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUaHT ; 

party came upon the scene; the sheriif, a sub- 
agent of Lord Woolcut, and several bailiffs. 
Some minutes are devoted to drilling the forces 
in the barrack yard, then all turn out, and in 
due order take their places after the officer who 
represents the majesty and of British rule 

in Ireland. With measured tread they march 
on, those heroes, armed, not with sword or mus- 
ket; but with that unique weapon which has 
accomplished so much glorious work in Ireland 
during the last fifteen years, as to have well 
earned the distinction ’of giving name to a new 
class of British soldiers’^ — the Crowbar Bri- 
gade. On they come in dauntless arraj^, with a 
military force, to serve as a covering party, 
bringing up the rear. 

Leaving the high road, they took their way 
among the hills skirting the village, and Hrew 
up in imposing force before the first house they 
came to — the home of the Eegans. A loud rap 
brought Johanna to the door. 

“ Where is your husband, my good woman 
asked the sheriff. 

^^He's away at work, sir. He got a job, him- 
self and Mick — that's our oldest child, your 
honor — over beyond there," pointing across the 
hills. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 223 

The sheriff was silent for a moment. Sworn 
officer of the law though he was, he yet was not 
so destitute of manly feeling as to show no re- 
luctance in telling the poor woman that her 
landlord required her to leave the premises forth- 
with, in accordance with the notice her husband 
had previously received. 

Johanna heard the cruel mandate in silence. 
She had long looked forward with dread to this 
moment. Hard was the sacrifice, but it was the 
penalty of her fidelity to God — she was ready to 
pay it. While the men were putting her few 
bits of furniture out of doors, she wrapped up 
little Alley as comfortably as her limited ward- 
robe would allow, then threw her blue cloak 
over her shoulders, and taking the child by the 
hand, gave one last look around the place she 
had so long called home ; one look, the tears 
starting, to the room where Bernard died, and 
murmuring, God be with you, poor old place 
crossed the threshold her feet were never to 
tread again. Out in the wintry wind, with the 
wondering, frightened child clinging to her hand, 
she stood, looking through blinding tears at the 
bustling bailiff, as he extinguished the fire she 
had just built up afresh, to be snug and warm 
again' the others come home;" saw him secure 


224 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

the door, and fall to his place among the 
instruments of a bishop's cruelty. One of the 
men, touched by her uncomplaining submission, 
turned back to speak a word of consolation. 

Better not stop here,'' he added ; see, the 
rain is beginning to fall ; it will be a wild night ; 
of course, you know somebody that will take 
you in ?" 

She did not answer him, nor moved until ^‘the 
peelers" had filed by ; then tidying the things 
and securing them as well as she could from the 
drizzling rain, she sat down on the heap of bed- 
ding, and drawing Alley beneath the shelter of 
her cloak, patiently awaited the coming of the 
remainder of the evicted household. Susan and 
Patrick were the first to arrive ; and, ere they 
could be made to comprehend the scene (for, as 
the boy kept telling his mother, the rent was 
paid, every shilling of it, and how, then, could 
they be turned out?) the father and Mick made 
their appearance. At sight of her husband, the 
poor woman's forced composure gave way. 
Eushing to his arms, she sobbed out the sad 
story, to the amazed and heart-stricken man. 
But there was little time to grieve over the mis- 
fortune that had come upon them so suddenly. 
Night was fast approaching; it was needful to 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD ^fSHOP. 225 

think what had best be done. Began, dilatory, 
and fond of taking things easy, was of no use in 
this emergency. 

We can do nothing to-night, Johanna, was 
his answer to his wife^s representations. It^s 
too late to go looking for shelter, an^ where would 
we go ? Is it to them that^s not got enough for 
themselves ? and may be to bring the lord^s anger 
down on them for taking part with us? We^ll 
just stay where we are tilT morning^s dawn, an’ 
then we’ll find some place to put our little things 
nn’ ourselves, never fear.” 

An’ are these children to be in the wet an’ 
cold all night, Barney? Is that the best thing 
you can think of for them ?” 

Easy, now ; we can make them comfortable 
here between us, and — ” 

^^No, ril not have them stop here to get their 
death of cold such a night as this,” interrupted 
the mother, in her decisive way. Go as fast as 
you can to Mrs. O’LoughMn, children ; an’ Mick, 
you’ll tell her what’s happened, and she’ll give 
you all shelter for the night. No one was ever 
turned from Michael O’Loughlin’s door in dis- 
tress, let alone children that’s got no home.” 

And where will you go, mother ?” questioned 
Mick, 


226 THE XJONFE8SORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Never mind me, child ; Til do very well. It^s 
rttle your father and I would sleep to-night, 
wherever we^d be. Eun along now, the four of 
you, an^ lose no time. The rain^s coming down 
harder every minute. God help us, and every 
body that's in want of it this night,'’ she ejecu- 
lated fervently, as having seen the objects of her 
solicitude off, she sat down with her husband 
near a ditch that partly sheltered them from the 
wind, blowing more fiercely now, in keen, cutting 
blasts, as the stormy night closed in. It was 
almost dark when Mick returned. 

In the world what brought you back, alanna?'’ 
asked the mother, regretfully. Didn't you 
know that I wanted you all to be together?" 

Don't ask me to leave you, mother. I'll stay 
with you," replied the boy, in his quiet, earnest 
way. ‘‘ See ! Godmother thought you'd be 
hungry, or that father would, any way; so she 
sent you this." 

The saints be good to her, and all belonging 
to her! 'tis herself that always has the kind 
thought for every one," said Johanna, as, to 
please the youth, she pretended to partake of 
the food for which she had no relish. 

Barney, cold, wet, tired and hungry, after his 
day's work, ate heartily and in silence. He 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 227 

j was pondering over the course of his troubles, 
i and the poor fellow, well-meaning, harmless 
( man/' as his neighbors would have described 
i him, had none of that 'resolute purpose, that 
f inflexible attachment to principle, which sup- 
) ported his wife under the present trial. Not 
i for a moment did she think of regaining her 
i home by a timely submission to the great man 
’ whose vengeance was so terrible ; while poor 
) Began, on the contrary, was considering the 
feasibility of going ^Hhe very first thing in the 
i' morning to the parson, and humbly begging him 
) to intercede for him with the Lord Bishop, that 
> he might get back his little place. He believed 
♦ he could easily get it back on the one condition ; 
but — well, well, God help the poor ! He knows 
how it is with them in this cruel world, and sure 
He won't be hard on them ! But then that pro- 
: mise — there was sin in breaking it, not to mind 
I the disgrace before the priest and the congrega- 
i tion; but, then, to think of the children; maybe 
I they'd be none the worse for going to the school 
, another while; but what would become of them 
’ without any shelter 

In this strain ran Barney's soliloquy, and he 
! gave no heed to his wife and son, who were be- 
{ guiling the time talking. Mick had much to tell 


228 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


of his brief visit to Mrs. O'Loiighlin, her surprise 
and grief at the news he brought, and how 
strange she thought it that they had not all come 
together to her house ; she was sure neither she 
nor her husband could rest, knowing that Mick’s 
father and mother were out in the cold and rain. 
And Mick went on to tell how he had heard that 
the sheriff had only called at one house beside 
theirs, and, as one of the family was down with 
the fever and ague, and the shaking fit was just 
coming on,” he had consented to leave them un- 
disturbed for the night; he had some similar 
business to attend to on the morrow, so he could 
leave their case till the last. Johanna sighed a 
kindly sympathy with her fellow sufferers. 

‘<So there’s more misfortunate ones to be 
turned out of doors! Very like all them that 
were noticed; but whist ! what sound is that?” 

It was a horse and cart coming slowly along, 
and directly a cheery voice sung out, ^^Ho, 
Barney Began ! Johanna ! where are you ?” 

^<’Tis godfather,’^ cried Mick joyfully, leading 
his mother in the direction of the sound, for the 
night was now intensely dark. While Began 
sprang up with unusual agility crying plaintively. 
'‘Its here we are, Mr. O’Loughlin— the saints 
look down on us— alongside of the ditch.” 


I 

! 

OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 229 

“You ought to be thrown over it/* was the 
complimentary rejoinder. “Johanna, where was 
your sense — since your husband had none — that 
you did not go straight to a house where you 
might know you^d be welcome V* 

Indeed, sir, myself thought I was making 
free enough, crowding the young ones in on you 
without as much as asking leave.^^ 

“ That was an oversight. You should have sent 
I a messenger in advance to ask if it would be 
i convenient to receive them. Mick do you find 
anything else about there V* 

“ No sir, I believe all the things are in the 
cart.^^ 

O'Loughlin swung his lantern round to take a 
last survey of the spot, then helped Johanna 
I into the cart, and they set off as rapidly as the 
1 darkness and the state of the road would allow. 
How bright looked the comfortable kitchen of 
the farm house to the homeless pair, and how 
! thankfully beat the mother^s heart as she saw 
her little ones playing merrily with the O’Lough- 
i lins, who were “ making much^^ of their unex- 
j pected guests. And Barney enjoyed the happy 
! change in his position, though he must give up 
\ the plans with which he had solaced himself 
f alongside of the ditch. No one knew of them, 


230 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


that was one comfort. Supper was soon served, 
and the little party, despite all, was a cheerful 
one. 

Yes, it may be my turn nexV^ said the host, 
in response to a chance remark of Barney^s. 

However, to-morrow has not come yet, and as 
we don’t know what it may have in store for us, 
we’ll just make the most of to-night, and let the 
morrow take care of itself.” 

The next morning dawned drearily over Bar. 
trymore. The cold drizzling rain still fell 
mingled with sleet; but dreary as was the face 
of nature how much deeper the gloom in those 
dwellings which owned Lord Woolcut as land- 
lard. The news of yesterday’s work had spread 
quickly among the people, and brought most 
agonizing apprehensions to those amongst his 
tenants who, having like the Apostle preferred 
to obey God rather than man, must now prepare 
to undergo man’s vengeance. Work was sus- 
pended. Each little family group huddled in 
trembling suspense around the hearth from which 
perchance they would soon be cast out forever. 

The morning was far advanced when the 
sheriff and his men again made their appear- 
ance. Arriving before one of the devoted houses 
the sheriff and the agent drew up their gallant 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 231 

i steeds, while the military ranged themselves^ at 
j a proper distance behind the officials, keeping 
( off the crowd of excited spectators, who waited 
I in death-like stillness the commencement of the 
j barbarous work. Two of the bailiffs advanced 
I simultaneously, rapped loudly once, twice, thrice, 
j no answer; deep silence reigned over the place, 
j A bailiff seized the door handle and shook it 
I fiercely, as if to wrest the door from its fastenings, 
but the tenement was strong and in good repair, 
the door held out against the rude onset. Amid 
the groans and lamentations of the multitude 
the crowbar was brought into requisition, and 
entrance forcibly obtained. There, gathered 
around the fire in speechless consternation, were 
father, mother, and children — ten human beings 
— ^looking despairingly at the invaders, by whom 
they were to be flung out like worthless weeds 
on the roadside. 

Come, hustle out, good folks, weVe in a hur- 
ry,^' said one of the bailiffs, beginning at the same 
time to remove the furniture. 

The unfortunate tenant instinctively clenched 
his fist, and started forward, but a glance at the 
imposing force without, the red-coated and black- 
coated soldiers of the Queen, showed the folly 
of resistance. With a smothered groan, he ad- 
dressed the sheriff ; 


232 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


^^This is very hard, sir; I don^t owe Lord 
Woolcut a farthing. All the neighbors can tell 
you I’m a hard-working, honest man, that has 
never wronged any living creature.’' 

A murmur of assent rose from the crowd. The 
sheriff, who was listening with an air of studied 
indifference, cast a warning glance around. The 
man went on, useless as he knew appeal to bo : 

^‘How can I be expected to stand here and 
see my wife — and she’s far from strong, sir — and 
these helpless babies cast out on the road ? If 
I’d committea a crime, sir, you know it wouldn’t 
be just to punish them.” 

Here, suppose you take yourself out of the 
way,” cried one of the bailiffs, roughly seizing a 
little girl as he spoke, and thrusting her towards 
the doorway. A blow from the enraged father 
made him stagger back. In an instant half a 
dozen of his comrades were ready to level the 
offender to the ground; but a word from the 
sheriff caused them to fall back -in sullen quiet- 
ness. 

I am sorry for you,” said that functionary 
compassionately, addressing the victim of op- 
pression, who, nerved to desperation, still main- 
tained his belligerant attitude, regardless of the 
overwhelming odds against him. It is a hard 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 233 

case, I admit. Still you know that your land- 
lord has a right to claim his property.^' 

A right to throw those children out to die,^^ 
interrupted the father fiercely. ^^Is that the 
right of a preacher of the gospel — of a Lord 
Bishop he added mockingly. 

A groan from some of the spectators, and cries 
of — Yes, he'll preach his gospel next Sabbath.'^ 
He's got a new gospel, belike, thaf tells him to 
oppress the poor.'^ 

Silence, there 1" cried the now angry ofiicial. 
Men, finish your work.'^ 

It is finished, your worship,'^ said one of the 
obsequious heroes of the crowbar. The things 
is all cleaned out, your honor.'^ 

Yes, the work was done. Chairs, chests, and 
tables, beds, clothing, and cooking utensils, were 
all huddled confusedly together; nothing re- 
mained but to oust the family, and fasten the 
door. A loud wail of grief rose from the multi- 
tude as the man led his wife forth, weeping, and 
clasping to her breast a young babe ; weak and 
trembling she crouched down on a stool in the 
midst of her little possessions, homeless and 
heart-broken. Some of the crowd lingered to 
condole with her : the rest followed the oflicers 
of the law on to the next house. Little force 


234 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

was needed here ; a shake or two sent the door 
inwards. Two children and a grown girl rushed 
out at the same moment, crying and wailing; 
a man followed them, the picture of abject terror 
and misery. The officers made short work: 
skillets and crocks, and bowls and trenchers, 
were gathered up hastily, the few pieces of fur- 
niture tossed out, the smoking bits of turf extin- 
guished, a handful of thatch pulled down from 
the roof, a twig stuck in the door, and the scene 
closed: the valuable tenement was at Lord 
Woolcut^s disposal. What matter if the feeble, 
unresisting tenant, whose life-blood had been 
coined into shillings to pay an exorbitant rent 
for the miserable hovel, was now, in his declining 
years, a homeless wanderer, looking on, with his 
motherless children, in despairing wretchedness, 
as the rain and sleet deluged their few household 
goods, their all of earthly possessions ? Angels 
might have shed a tear of compassion over that 
weeping group ; but what cared the Lord Bishop, 
in his sumptuous palace, for the miserable crea- 
tures ! 

On to the next of the doomed houses. “ Bar- 
ricaded cried one of the bailiffs, with a coarse 
laugh, as, after vainly rapping for admission, he 
tried the door, and a grim smile broke over the 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 235 

stern set features of the agent at the folly of the 
poor wretches, who thought thus to resist the 
dread power of the law. A huge stone, dexter- 
ously wielded, soon gained the man entrance. 
At the same moment a shrill, heart-rending cry, 
echoed by childish voices, was heard, and a dis- 
tracted looking woman rushed out, and, falling 
on her knees before the sheriff, with clasped 
hands and streaming tears, besought his pity for 
her fatherless children. 

Tve worked hard to keep the shelter over 
them, your worship,^^ she cried, in accents of 
heart-broken sorrow. ‘^IVe strove hard to be 
both father and mother to them, since it pleased 
God to take their poor father to himself, four 
years ago come Christmas-day.^’ 

That you have, poor soul exclaimed sym- 
pathising voices from the crowd. YouVe had 
your own struggle, asthore.^^ 

The sheriff lowered his umbrella, partly to 
hide his emotion, partly to signify that entreaties 
were useless. But the widow had seen the ex- 
pression of his countenance, and she caught at 
the glimrner of hope it inspired. 

God bless your honor, ever an’ always she 
sobbed fervently. Sure I knew you couldn’t 
do it — it isn’t in the heart of you to deny the 


286 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


prayer of the friendless poor; youdl leave the 
shelter to my little creatures — the heavens be 
your bed 

I can't, indeed, my good woman. I would if 
it rested with me; but you know you had notice 
to quit long ago." 

I had, your worship — it's truth your saying 
— ^but where 'ud I go ? And did I think the rich 
lord would throw us out in the beginning of the 
cold weather ! Wait till the heart of the winter 
is broke, your honor. Children, where are you ? 
go down on your knees to the good gentleman, 
an' put your little innocent hands together — he's 
got children of his own, maybe; may he be long 
spared to them, an' may they grow up a comfort 
to him." 

The sheriff, angry at showing feelings that did 
him honor, dashed the starting tears away, and 
turned an inquiring glance upon the agent, as 
one who could at least postpone the execution 
of the cruel order. But that personage was calm 
and unmoved as ever : his eyes wandering over 
the sorrowful scene as if it was a dramatic spec- 
tacle got up for his amusement. With a muttered 
curse on his heartlessness, the sheriff backed his 
horse away from the kneeling group. 

can do nothing for you," he said, harshly; 
‘‘it's Lord Woolcut's affair, not mine." 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 237 

Sobbing and moaning, the poor widow rose 
from her suppliant posture. Turning instinct* 
ively to re-enter her cabin, she found that advan- 
tage had been taken of the time wasted in fruitless 
importunities : her little possessions had been 
thrust out of doors, and the men were now secur- 
ing the premises against her intrusion, glad that 
they had been able to do the work so easily. At 
the cruel sight, her cries broke forth with frantic 
violence. 

Confound it said the sheritf, as he galloped 
away. ^^Aman had need to have a heart of 
stone to witness such scenes as these f ’ 

The agent gave an almost imperceptible sneer. 

‘‘Nay, my dear sir,^^ he said blandl}^, “you 
suffer your feelings to become interested — the 
very thing those people aim at effecting. They 
will treat those who have the reputation of being 
what they call soft-hearted, to such exhibitions 
at a moment’s notice. For my part, so well do 
I understand them, that they niake no more im- 
pression on me than if they were so many pup- 
pets, acting by invisible but cunningly devised 
springs.” 

“ You are fortunate, sir,” was the curt reply, 
“ to have your feelings under kich control — if 
you have any,” was added in an aside. 


238 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

They pursued their ride in silence, but the 
sheriff took care when next they drew rein to 
have his companion between him and the doomed 
tenement. It was hard enough for the humane 
man to have to witness such scenes of misery, 
without the additional pain of refusing prayers 
which he felt should be granted. For these were 
none of the every-day evictions for arrears ot 
rent, or similar weighty reasons in the eyes ot 
the law. These were evictions for conscience 
sake, as he well knew ; and while he wondered 
equally at the bigotry which prompted such per- 
secution, and the firmness which bore it sooner 
than yield, he could not help both compassion- 
ating and admiring the victims of the Eight 
Eeverened oppressor; and in pity to them as 
well as to himself he allowed no further oj)por- 
tunity for petitions, but hurried on his men to 
their work. 

Half-past two,^^ said he looking at his watch, 
as he turned from another triumph of the peelers, 

and three" of these delectable affairs yet re- 
main, I move they be postponed until to-morrow. 
We have seen and inflicted misery enough for 
one day.^^ 

The agent demurred. By taking another road 
in returning to the barrack they could evict a 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORO BISHOP. 239 


t 


family, which he had particular reasons for clear- 
ing oif of the estate; an insolent, seditious set/' 

But it will be night shortly, and how are the 
Ipoor wretches to provide themselves with shelter 
jin the midst of this driving storm, too? It is 
1 barbarous/' 

Oh, they'll find some place; no fear of them/' . 
was the careless reply. ‘^And as for movables 
they are not much troubled with them ; a few 
minutes will suffice for their moving." 

Without further parley the leaders galloped 
off, at a pace that gave the men on foot no little 
trouble to keep up with them, and in a few mo- 
ments drew rein before the doomed cabin. It was 
the one from which the parson had once found 
it convenient to take refuge in flight ; and the 
victor of that day, the stout-hearted, plain-spoken 
Judy Welsh, now confronted the peelers with 
uplifted poker, ready to do duty on the first 
luckless cranium that came in its way. 

‘‘ Keep off, every one of you," she cried, bran- 
dishing her weapon, from which the heroes of 
the crowbar instinctively retreated. “I give 
you all fair warning — the first man that steps 
across the threshold I'll level to the floor." 

This is child's play, good woman," said the 
sheriff, to whom the men looked inquiringly. 


240 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


May be so/' was the cool reply. Let them 
that think so come forward and have a trial of 
it." 

There's your husband, Judy; you'll make 
him ashamed of you," said one of the men. 

Before she could reply a man left the crowd 
and stepped to the door. At the same instant 
the agent shouted, “Pull down the shanty, boys; 
down with it; 'tis worth nothing — only fit for 
pigs!” 

“Is that the reason your master gets a big 
rent for it?" screamed the incensed Judy. “ Do 
you hear that, Andy ? After your slaving — " 

“Be quiet, woman; what's to be gained by 
provoking them ? It's true, sir," and he turned 
to the sheriff, “ the place is but a poor one, but 
such as it is we've been glad to put up with it, 
since the famine time threw us behindhand. And 
poor as it is, the rent was raised twice upon me, 
and once when I wasn't able to pay it, through 
the sickness, everything we had was sold to pay 
for it. We've had many a thing to put us back, 
your honor; sickness, and bad times, and, not 
long ago, the old grandmother's death and bury- 
ing, heaven rest her soul ! And now that we 
were just getting along, and gathering a few 
things around us again — " 


I OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 241 

^Tis a hard case, I admit, interrupted the 
sheriff. have no doubt you^ll find a better 
place than this, Andrew ; you couldn^t well find 
a worse one.^^ 

j No, sir; but to be turned out this way, after 
I paying a high rent for years 1 And there’s an 
j old couple, too feeble to be moved such a day as 
j this, your honor, even if there was a place ready 
j to take them to.” 

► ^^That will do; stand aside, and let the men 
I do their work,” was the brutal rejoinder of the 
\ agent ; and Andrew, giving him a look of mingled 
{ scorn and dread, disappeared into the cabin. 

! The next instant he came forward with his wife, 
(tenderly supporting between them an aged 
j couple, Judy’s parents, whose extreme feebleness 
j was apparent to all. The old man — four-score 
i years had passed over his head — was evidently 
( making an effort to preserve composure ; his 
i wife, nearly as old, and far more worn and help- 
S less, presented a moving spectacle, as, with the 
I slow, pitiful-looking tears of old age trickling 
one by one down her furrowed cheeks, she 
clasped her withered hands feebly together, and 
turned her dim eyes on the crowd with a wistful, 
appealing gaze, that brought sobs of compassion 
from many a stout heart. Poor, way-worn pil- 


242 THE CONFESSORS OP CONNAUGHT; 

grims ! denied the privilege of spending their few 
remaining days in the place which, wretched as 
it was, they had long regarded as home. A score 
of sturdy fellows sprang forward to sustain the 
tottering forms, and shelter them from the dri- 
ving sleet and rain. The venerable old man 
accepted their proflPered kindness with gentle 
dignity • but the fragile partner of his sorrows 
was inconsolable. 

Look at me I” she cried, with touching pathos, 
that has passed three-score and fourteen years 
in this world of woe, and that never harmed a 
creature, but often gave the bit to the hungry, 
as well as shelter to the houseless poor. Oh, 
what have I done to merit such treatment?’^ 
Cries and groans from all around echoed the 
sorrowful lament. But the aged husband spoke, 
in clear and sweet, though faltering accents : 

Peace, agra ! the passion and death of our 
blessed Saviour were more than this 

Oh, wonderful triumph of faith! glorious 
example of rarest virtue ! Words worthy to be 
quoted as sublime'^ by one of the greatest 
French bishops of our time ; how they went to 
every heart in that multitude, calming angry 
excitement, and awakening better feelings. But 
to one there they carried joy and consolation — 


I 

1 

; OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 243 

! the holy priest, who would willingly have given 
his life for his persecuted flock, but who, power- 
j less to protect them against the oppressor, could 
^ only witness, in silent anguish of spirit, those 
j pitiable scenes, and endeavor to make some pro- 
f vision for the immediate wants of the hapless 
1 victims. Yes, to his sorrowful heart, the heroic 
I resignation evinced by his venerable parishioner, 
j brought joy unspeakable. And how cheering it 
( was to him to behold the ready kindness, the 
f self-denying alacrity of those who, in some cases, 
had little enough for themselves, yet were only 
j anxious to share that little with their unfortu- 
nate neighbors. It was truly an exercise of hos- 
pitality under difficulties; but when did Irish 
I hospitality ever wait to calculate hindrances or 
) contingencies V* By nightfall all were under 
1 shelter, a poor and doubtful one, indeed, in some 
I cases, for Lord Woolcut was averse to getting 
I repairs done on his property, caring little whether 
■ the houses of his tenants were comfortable or 
' not, if his agent could collect the rent in due 
season, and his curate prosper in the great work 
of conversion. Still, however poor the shelter, 
it was a blessed boon to those who, but for the 
exertions of thpir zealous pastor and charitable 
neighbors, would have had to endure the fierce 


244 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

fury of the storm among those bleak and rugged 
hills. 

Foremost in offering all the aid that kind 
hearts and active hands could give, were the 
O’Loughlins, old and young; though the parents 
could not banish a haunting fear that their own 
condition might soon be the same, for the legal 
notice was hanging over them also. Their fears 
were verified early the next morning, when the 
heroes of the crowbar again took up the line of 
march through the streets of Bartrymore. 

With manly composure, though his heart was 
torn with conflicting emotions, the father led his 
wife and children, together with the harbor- 
less'^ ones he had harbored, out of doors, and 
looked on in silence while all his household goods 
were being removed from the dwelling, dearer to 
him than any other spot on the wide earth could 
ever be. Ah, truly it needed the remembrance 
of the blessing pronounced on those who suffer 
persecution for justice' sake, to enable those fond 
parents to endure, with uncomplaining resigna- 
tion, the doom which would send themselves, and 
the little band they were rearing in comfort and 
respectability, adrift on the world. 

It was over. The house was cleared; the 
bailiff was fastening the door. At that instant 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 245 

the sheriif rode up to the agent, and spoke to 
him a few words, receiving an affirmative nod in 
reply. Then turning to the distressed family, 
the worthy officer, with a smile that showed how 
pleasant was this part of his duty, told O’Lough- 
lin that he was at liberty to put his furniture 
back again, for Lord Woolcut had pardoned him, 
and he was accordingly to be left in possession 
of his old home. 

For an instant the astonishment of his hear- 
ers transcended all other feelings. They could 
scarcely credit what they had heard, even when 
the bailiffi, by the sheriff's order, unfastened the 
door, and flung it wide open, and the imposing 
force of soldiers and police filed off down the 
road. In silent stupefaction the little groups 
gazed after them till a cry of joy from Johanna 
Eegan broke the spell : 

The Lord in Heaven be praised for all His 
mercies," she exclaimed fervently. He would 
not let them, who, for His name's sake, are good 
j to the poor, come to want." 

With an impulse of pious gratitude, O'Loughlin 
I fell on his knees in the midst of his now happy 
1 household, and returned thanks for this unex- 
I pected good fortune. Things were soon restored 
I to their former order, and joy and satisfaction 


246 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

beamed on every countenance. To O^Lougblin 
the landlord's clemency seemed little short of 
miraculous. He was really grateful for it, though 
his lip would curl whenever he thought of the 
pardon so graciously extended for the monstrous 
offence of selecting a school for his children in 
accordance with his own desires rather than the 
noble lord’s. 

More zealously than over did this worthy fam- 
ily now continue their efforts to relieve their less 
fortunate neighbors. And there was but too much 
need of all that the charitable could do during 
that long and trying winter. More than three- 
score of human beings were entirely dependant 
on others for shelter, and mainly for food, since 
the provision they had made for the winter was 
inadequate to their wants. 

One man contrived a poor substitute for his 
cabin by fixing some sticks against a wall, and 
throwing over them straw and bits of turf — a 
miserable shelter for a wife, and four young, 
sickly children. Here, in cold and darkness, 
they spent the Christmas holidays, the glad sea- 
son bringing no pleasure or festivity to them : 
yet even for this poor place of refuge they were 
meekly thankful. The ‘^New Year” brought 
one of those terrific storms of snow and wind 


OR, THE TENANTS OP A LORD BISHOP. 247 

and sleet common to that wild mountain region : 
the frail hut was overthrown, and the inmates 
merely escaped with their lives, doomed once 
more to seek shelter from the charitable neigh- 
bors. 

A few days after the priest was called upon 
to administer the last consolations of the Church 
to Judy Welsh’s parents, the venerable couple 
whose great age and feebleness had not saved 
them from sharing the fate to which a Christian 
Bishop had pitilessly doomed his industrious arfd 
inoffensive tenants. Cold, suffering, and anxiety 
had done their work on the aged pilgrims, and, 
in the home kindness provided for them, they 
were now calmly awaiting their summons from 
a world which had had few charms for them. 
In their case death was indeed a welcome angel, 
bearing them to* a home which they would enjoy 
forever more. Well might their fellow victims 
envy, while they mourned, the happy dead.” 
To them, alas ! months and years of privation 
and hardship remained, with no prospect of hap- 
pier times to cheer them in their misery. But 
the power of the holy faith for which they suf-* 
fered, upheld them through all. How touching 
was the brief description given by the good 
priest of one of those faithful ‘^confessors;” and 


248 THE CONFESSOES OF CONNAUGHT; 


the same might have been said of all: <‘The 
widow Lally has been with me, bearing in her 
eyes and voice the signs of all she has endured ; 
quite hoarse and choked-up with cold caught 
during the late snow ; her eyes livid and sunken ; 
but, blessed be God, not a word of complaint from 
her lips 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Another Stroke of Vengeance. 



jT is pleasant to turn from the contem- 
i plation of such scenes of distress to 
a happj^ household like that of the 
O’Loughlin^s, which, relieved of the 
dark shadow of a threatened eviction, 
was now more than ever the abode 
of contentment and peace. The open- 
ing spring found all things in readiness for an 
early commencement of the farm-work, which 
was to be unusually heavy this year, stimulated, 
not by a spirit of covetousness, but by the noble 
promptings of an ever-active charity. Every 
thing about the place had that thriving aspect 
which speaks of cheerful, well-ordered industry ; 
and Father Dillon, as he stood a moment at the 
gate, casting an observant glance around, thanked 
God, as he had often done before, that this family, 
at least, had escaped the relentless persecution 
from which so many others were suffering. 

The good priest was received with the wel- 

( 249 ) 


250 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


come which always awaited him there, and Mrs. 
O'Loughliu^s pleasure in seeing him was enhanced 
by the object of his visit. On the land of one of 
the small farmers in the neighborhood, were the 
ruins of an old stone wall, encumbering much 
of the ground for which the tenant was paying 
an exorbitant rent to the Hon. Miss Woolcut, 
the owner of the j)lace. Father Dillon, being 
about to build a new school-house near his 
church, had purchased these stones of the man, 
who was glad to have so much of the rubbish'' 
taken out of his way, and he had come to ask 
O'Loughlia to have the stones carted to the site 
of the proposed building. 

In the absence of his father, Mark joyfully 
offered to perform this service for his parish 
priest. His brother, Frank, was not to be de- 
prived of a sbare in the good work, so, gaily 
springing into the cart, the two young fellows 
rattled away; and, working with a will, soon 
had the building materials deposited on the de- 
signated spot, which presented a scene of busy 
industry. All the parish felt an interest in the 
now school-house. Very different would it be 
from the poor tliatched cabins in which the 
children were now instructed — a large, comfort- 
able edifice, with plenty of windows, and a slated 


OR, THE TENANTS OP A LORD BISHOP. 251 

roof, quite a rival, in its humble way, of ^^my 
Lord Bishop's’' splendid educational edifice. So 
every one was ready to contribute a mite in 
money or labor to the great work, which would 
be of such vast importance to the children, and 
another proof of that indomitable zeal for religion 
which no adverse circumstances could destroy. 
And, perhaps, along with all these good motives, 
the thought which frequently found utterance. 
What will Lord Woolcut think when he hears 
of what we are doing?" contributed a little to 
the general satisfaction. As a learned professor 
used to observe to his pupils — In your progress 
through this world, gentleman, you will find that 
human nature is, after all, human nature." The 
good folks of Bartrymore, humble, fervent Christ- 
ians as they were, were yet human; and if in 
‘‘the high place of the Episcopal Palace," the 
most cruel and repulsive attributes of human 
nature could find enterance, how should the poor 
cabin of the victim be exempt from its foibles ? 

The spring had opened unsually early this 
year, and the continued fine weather cheered the 
farmers with the hope of abundant returns for 
their labor. Michael O'Loughlin was foremost 
among those who had taken quick advantage of 
the favorable season. By the middle of April 


252 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNATJaHT ; 

his farm gave pleasing evidence of thrifty culti- 
vation. Every spot had been manured, ploughed 
and harrowed in the most thorough manner; all 
the various seeds were in the ground; already, 
under the genial influence of sunshine and 
shower, the rich and carefully prepared soil was 
covered with vegetation, that promised well for 
the time of harvest. 

^^Now everything is in a fair way,^^ said the 
farmer, as, feeling unusually wearied, he indulged 
himself with a resting spell on a warm afternoon 
toward the close of April. Please God to favor 
us with good weather our few acres will yield 
abundantly this year/' 

That will be good," returned the wife, who 
always entered heartily into his views. What 
a comfort it would have been, this past winter, 
if we had been able to spare more to the poor 
people who were in sore need. When I think 
how near we were to sharing their fate, I feel 
that we can never do enough for them to show 
our gratitude to our Heavenly Father for our 
escape." 

Yes, that was a mercy to be remembered to 
the last day of our lives. How would it have 
been with these little ones if they had lost their 
home ?" 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 253 

And, with a swelling heart, the father looked 
upon the healthy, blooming ehildren in whom 
his hopes rested. The youngest had climbed 
upon his knee, and was now calling attention to 
the wonderful progress he was making in learn- 
ing A, B, C. The parent's eyes wandered from 
the curly-headed pet to his brothers and sistei's, 
who were busily conning their tasks" for the 
morrow. With what tranquil feelings they 
watched the young scholars, whose studies, 
di-rected by the holy influence of religion, would 
prepare them for usefulness here and happiness 
hereafter, instead of them becoming hypocrites 
or apostates, as Lord Woolcut's schools would 
have surely made them. 

Another cause for rejoicing the parents had 
on this day — a day which was destined to be an 
eventful one in their history. A letter had ar- 
rived from America, bringing more pleasant 
tidings than they had of late received from 
Kathleen. 

The young couple's flrst year in the land of 
their choice had proved an unlucky one. Hav- 
ing, unfortunately, settled in a region where 
‘Hhe ague" was prevalent, they had almost im- 
mediately been attacked by it, and after weary 
months of sickness and discouragement, found 


254 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

themselves compelled to sacrifice their little pro- 
perty, and remove to a healthier locality. They 
were now settled almost on the borders of civili- 
zetion, cut off from many of the comforts of life. 
But land was cheap and the climate good; Wil- 
liam had begun to clear land for what he de- 
signed to make ^‘a tip-top farm,’^ and Kathie 
was getting used to log-cabin life, and quite en- 
joyed it; they had occesional opportunities of 
hearing mass; and had a few neighbors, the 
nearest not more than two miles distant; and 
their settlement was so favorably located that it 
must grow into one of those marvellous towns 
which are the peculiar product of the Great 
West/^ So they were now in good heart, and 
with the genuine spirit of Western settlers con- 
trived to extract amusement out of difiiculties 
and privations. 

The long letter, full of those minute details 
which are so interesting to the folks at home,^^ 
had been read and talked over many times that 
day, and still the fond mother took it up again, 
wishing for the twentienth time, at least, that 
Mark and Frank were at home. They had gone 
to a wedding in another parish, bent on enjoy- 
ing a frolic after their long season of work, and 
would probably not return till the next morning ; 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 255 

but how quickly they would return, thought the 
mother, if they knew of this long letter from 
Kathie. 

At this moment a shadow darkened the door- 
way near which she was standing : she looked 
up and beheld the sheriff. O’Loughlin, some- 
what surprised at the appearance of the unusual 
visitor, rose and handed him a chair, with a 
polite inquiry after his health. Ere the visitor 
had time to reply one of his bailiffs entered, and 
requested the family to leave, as he was about to 
clear the place, and take possession in the land- 
lord's name. Confounded by the unexpected 
summons the tenant looked from one to the 
other in mute bewilderment; then the truth 
flashed upon his mind, and he exclaimed reso- 
lutely — 

Take possession ! Never while I live — in 
this house I was born, in this house I will die." 

Come, now, O'Loughlin, this is nonsense," 
said the sheriff in a tone of gentle remonstrance. 

You know that it is folly for you to think of 
resisting Lord Woolcut's demands. I brought 
but a small force, in deference to what I thought 
would be your wish on such an occasion, but you 
are well aware that all the force needed can be 
readily obtained. Better yield peacably." 


256 TUB CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

But there was no use in continuing the good 
counsel. O’Loughlin had pushed his family 
before him into the adjoining room, and was 
wildly fastening it against the inv^fders of his 
peaceful home. The next moment the door fell 
in with a crash, parents and children were 
roughly dragged out by the police, who stood 
guard over them while the house was being 
cleared of its contents, and possession legally 
taken. The officers next proceeded to the barn. 
O’Loughlin, who had been vainly struggling in 
the grasp of his captors, freed himself, by a 
frenzied exertion of all his strength, and rushing 
after them attacked the sheriff with the fury of 
a madman, and hurled him to the ground. Short 
and decisive would have been the contest, for 
the officer, taken by surprise, was no match for 
his desperate antagonist; but the bailiffs darted in 
a body to the rescue of their superior, and bore 
him, bruised and breathless, to a safe distance. 
All this time the shrieks of the children were 
heard above all other sounds, and the mother, 
with heart-rendering cries, strove to approach 
her husband, who was again captive in the strong 
grasp of the minions of the law.^^ 

Oh that ray brave boys were here to back 
me he cried fiercely. We would show you 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 257 

that a man is not to be robbed of his land at 
your pleasure, or the bidding of your villianous 
employer/^ 

‘^Aisy, now, aisy,^^ said one of the bailiffs 
soothingly. Thankful enough you may be to 
get off so well owin’ to the clemency of his 
honor, the sheriff. Sure its transported you’d 
be for layin’ hands on the Queen’s officer. Ho, 
my brave fellow, see what thanks you get for 
your pains.” 

This was said with a chuckle of delight to one 
of his comrades, who, in the excess of his zeal, 
had been busily shoveling potatoes out of their 
corner of the barn, till his employment was 
noticed by the sheriff, who angrily ordered him 
to desist, and put the potatoes back where he 
found them. The fellow’s crest-fallen look, as 
he sullenly obeyed, was fun to the others, who, 
were more or less grieved for the unfortunate 
tenant, and moved even to tears by the bitter 
anguish of the wife and mother, as having com- 
pleted their work they retired with haste, leav- 
ing the late happy family homeless and grief- 
stricken ; the children, now crying more quietly, 
clinging to one another in a corner of the yard; 
the father walking up and down with fierce 
strides, his countenance so dark and lowering, 


258 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

that the wife felt instinctively he was revolving 
some desperate project in his mind, and kept 
aloof from him, silently indulging her grief, lest 
a word from her might but fan the flame of 
vengeful feeling which she longed to allay. At 
last she could stand it no longer. Laying her 
hand upon his arm, and speaking in her gentlest 
tone, she represented that the evening was far 
spent, and the younger children getting sleepy, 
it was time to decide what was best to be done. 

He stopped short and looked down upon her 
as if just recalled to a sense of her presence. 
There was a flerce light in his eyes from which 
she shrank in dismay, for it confirmed her worst 
fears; but she nerved herself to her duty, and 
her tearful eyes met his with a gaze of unutter- 
able love — a look, eloquent of the true wifely 
devotion, that asked no higher earthly boon than 
to share his fate whatever it might be, braving 
poverty, hardship, beggary, with uncomplaining 
meekness — aye, with cheerfulness — if only his 
love remained. His fierce expression softened 
as he gazed earnestly on that patient, trusting 
face. With a sudden burst of emotion he threw 
his arms about her, and drew her sobbing to his 
breast, while he poured forth his feelings, not in 
the cold, measured phrases of the English tongue, 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 259 

but in the beautiful language of his own land — 
‘‘ that tongue docile and spirited as the Arab 
steed/^ with its thrilling terms of endearment, and 
its strength of expression, which could best por- 
tray the mingled tenderness and hate that filled 
his soul in that dark hour — tenderness for the 
cherished wife, his savourneen deelish, and the little 
ones, hiB paschee boght. Hatred, bitter, revengeful 
hatred of the tyranny that doomed those dear 
ones to hecome paupers in the land of their fathers. 
Paupers ! how he hissed out the bitter word, so 
full of humiliation to the high-souled man. And 
his wife clung to him, only murmuring now and 
then a word of endearment in Irish, waiting for 
his vehemence to exhaust itself, hoping that in 
that outburst of passion his mind Avould find 
relief, and gain its wonted calmness. 

It was not without an anxious dread that she 
again called his attention to the necessity of pro- 
viding for the children’s comfort, and almost 
overwhelming was her glad surprise when, cast- 
ing only an irresolute glance toward the silent 
and dismantled hotise, he set quietly about re- 
moving beds and bedding from the yard where 
the;^ had been confusedly thrown, to an out- 
house, partly sheltered by the barn. A quilt 
was hung up at the open front as a protection 


260 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


from the night air; ^‘though, indeed/' said the 
mother, cheerfully, ^-the night is so warm and 
mild there is no danger of their taking cold. 
Blessings on him !" she added, as she took up the 
youngest child, who had fallen asleep with his 
head pillowed on the arm of one of his sisters ; 

he will sleep here as comfortably as need be 
this night." 

How her heart sunk at the rejoinder. ^‘Yes, 
this nighty and to-morrow night he will rest once 
more in the room where he was born.'^ 

Oh, Michael. Michael ! Oh, for the love of 
our good God, do not make our sad case worse." 

Peace ; you have nothing to do with this," 
he interrupted sternly. I but wait the morn- 
ing, which will bring back those who are wanted 
here ; with them and a few of the neighbors, I 
will hold the place against all the force they can 
bring, or perish in defending the poor remnant 
of the property that was once my father's." 

The resolute tone forbade further remon- 
strance. She could but employ herself in con- 
trivances for her children's eomfort; then kneel 
in the midst of the little band and ^^give out" 
the night prayers with the same fervent devotion 
as if she were still in the dear home over which 
she had presided so many happy years. Upheld 


OB, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 261 

by the spirit of the petition on which her tongue 
involuntarily lingered, Thy will be done on 
earth as it is in heaven, her trusting faith and 
meek submission were evident even to those 
childish minds. And never could they forget 
that night when the power of religion shone so 
brightly in the look and manner of that beloved 
parent; never forget those night prayers said in 
the old turf-house. 

But the husband — the father — -joined not in 
their devotions. The trial had so overwhelmed 
him — it had come so suddenly in the midst of his 
glad anticipations — manhood's haughty spirit 
rose defiantly against the affliction ; and tortured 
anew by every thought of those helpless ones, 
his heart was incapable of any feeling save of 
bitterness and desperation. Wrought up to mad- 
ness by the contemplation of his wrongs, he 
paced the livelong night up and down before that 
shed, muttering of justice and vengeance; while 
hour after hour his wife bent in supplication for 
him before the throne of grace, all other troubles 
forgotten in the fear of what the morning might 
bring. Weeping and praying for him, watching 
for the return of ’her absent boys ; oh, how her 
heart sickened at the thought of what those 
high-spirited youths might be driven to by their 


262 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

own angry feelings and their father's despera- 
tion. 

‘‘Father in Heaven, afflict us as Thou seest 
fit!" was still the burden of her prayer. “We 
deserve Thy chastisements : but save my poor 
children from crime, bring back their sorely-tried 
father to a sense of his duty — let him not lead 
them astray from Thee !" 

And thus the night wore away, the beautiful 
April night, with the lustrous moonlight, rest- 
ing, like the smile of God, upon the earth so 
pure, so soft, so holy, shone its radiance on the 
sin-burdened world, whose cries of woe and 
tales of oppression and wrong are ever piercing 
the heavens. 

But when the clear radiance began to give 
way to the gray hue of early dawn the poor 
woman could no longer restrain herself. They 
might even now be approaching — those dear 
objects of her solicitude — and she must be 
where she can see them afar off ; she must be 
the first to meet them, and lay her commands 
upon them — the good obedient boys — ere their 
father’s tale could arouse the passions that might 
have been slumbering in their hearts, unknown 
to themselves and others, even as they had in 
his. She caught her breath quickly at the 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 263 

thought of incurring her husband's anger. That 
night had revealed to her a strange phase in his 
disposition. In the twenty-seven years of min- 
gled joy and sorrow, prosperity and adversity, 
they had shared, never, until now, had she seen 
him under the influence of blind, headstrong 
anger; and it was the more dreadful to her, as 
she began to understand that his equable temper, 
of which she had so often boasted, in her wifely 
pride, was not a natural endowment, but due to 
the self-control which deep religious feeling had 
trained into a life-long habit. But now the natu- 
ral impetuosity, held in restraint so long, had 
broken its bonds ; the flood-gates of passionate, 
vengeful feelings were opened, and the surging 
torrent rushed on regardless of all barriers, de- 
fying all power to check its headlong course. 
So it was not without trembling that she came 
forth from her shelter, and crept timidly by him, 
shrinking, for the first time, from meeting his 
glance, with a sort of guilty consciousness that 
she was about setting herself up in opposition 
to him — to him, the just, good man, whose word 
had ever been a law unto her. 

Where are you going, Kathleen ? Why don’t 
you try to get some sleep 

I don’t feel like sleeping,’^ said she, turning 


264 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

back and standing beside him. God help us to 
bear this trial ! It’s come upon us so suddenly, 
without doubt for some good purpose, as we will 
see by-and-bye; but, oh ! it is hard to bear it as 
we should bear whatever He sends.” 

Kathleen, never say that God has had any 
part in this act of tyranny. This trial, as you 
call it, comes not from Him — it is the work of a 
heartless fiend; and may the God of justice 
avenge our — ” 

A piercing shriek interrupted him. Oh, Mi- 
chael ! Michael ! this is harder than all !” She 
flung herself upon his neck, and clung to him as 
if to shield him from some threatened danger. 

TouVe been too good and faithful to your God 
to turn away from him now, when He’s all that’s 
left to us, asthore! Nay, Michael, don’t be 
angry with your poor Kathleen she wreathed 
her arms around him only the more fondly, as 
he strove impatiently to release himself. Your 
wife knows she should be said by you, as she 
always has — you know that, husband dear; and 
as she will again, please God ! But now you’re 
sorely tried and tempted, and ’tis only sorrow 
for them that your heart holds dear that comes 
between you and the light of heaven. Michael, 
agra, we’ve lost our home through striving to 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 265 

keep our children in the right way. We musn^t 
undo our work, risk our own souls, and, perhaps, 
theirs, now when it pleases our Lord to make 
trial of our fidelity to Him.^^ 

Thus she pleaded with him amid sobs and tears, 
her heart all the while sending up its one only 
prayer, that He who alone can still the fury of 
the elements, and of man's rebellious will, would 
speak the word of peace" to this tempest-tossed 
spirit ; while her husband stood in moody silence, 
striving, vainly striving, to banish the better 
feelings her broken entreaties had awakened. 
The morning light was growing clearer; the 
birds had begun their matin song ; on a bough 
just over his head, a little songster had perched, 
trilling out his melody with such startling purity 
and sweetness, that the troubled man half started, 
as if a voice from heaven were speaking to his 
soul. 

“Do you hear that bird, Kathleen?" Yery 
sad and subdued was his voice, as he thus broke 
the silence. As many April's as I can remem- 
ber, thd!t little bird — for it has seemed to me 
always the same — has sung its blithesome lay 
from that very bough. And often and often I've 
stood here — aye, just where I stand now — and 
thought — like enough 'twas a silly fancy — how 


266 THE CONFESSORS OF GONNAUUHT ; 


many of my name may have listened to that 
same sweet melody^ and that their happy souls 
were, perhaps, even then, hovering over the old 
place they had loved so well/^ 

So they were, without doubt, Michael,^^ re- 
turned his wife, eagerly. And if any of them 
are looking down this day, oh ! don’t they give 
new thanks to God that still another of their 
race is giving up house and land for the sake of 
the old Faith ? For many and many a one of 
them gave up all for it — wealth, and power, and 
life itself. So did some of my own people in the 
old times.” 

They cy?d,.they did, Kathleen,’’ repeated her 
husband, fervently. 

‘^And I’m thankful to God for it. With His 
holy blessing we’re walking in their footsteps, 
and so will our children after us.” 

A groan from the conscience-stricken man in- 
terrupted her. 

God forgive me, for I have had murder in 
my heart this night,” he murmured ; and humbled 
and penitent fell upon his knees. 

Kathleen raised her eyes in gratitude to 
heaven, and glided softly back to the shed, leav- 
ing him alone with his God. Her fears were 
quieted now; the tempter’s spell was broken; 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 267 

and when, a few moments after, she beheld her 
sons approaching, she rejoiced amid all her sor- 
row at feeling there was no need to interrupt 
their conference with their father. 

Indignation and rage filled the souls of the 
young men as they listened. Like their father, 
their first impulse was to defy all the power of 
the landlord — to die, if need be, in defending 
their home — and it was not without deep chagrin 
that they found him resolute in forbidding this 
course of action. 

Surely, sir,^’ exclaimed Mark vehemently, 
you would not counsel base submission to an 
outrage like this.^' 

The excited tone brought the mother forward? 
fearing, as she saw the hot fiush mantle her hus- 
band^s temples, that the young man^s fiery spirit 
would kindle his own anew. 

“ Listen to your father, Mark — do be said by 
him, Frank,^^ she pleaded, standing before the 
enraged youths, and addressing them with min- 
gled authority and entreaty. He has been 
your safe-guide and counsellor from your cradle 
up. Never fear that there'd be shame or disho- 
nor in the course he would have his children 
pursue, keeping the fear of God before their 
eyes.^' 


268 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Now, mother, don't bring religion into this 
matter,'' began Frank, impatiently; but she in- 
terrupted him as eagerly; 

Why not, agra ? Is there a moment of our 
lives that should be free from its influence ? But 
why am I talking? My boys know their duty 
too well to need instruction or reproof from me. 
Where are you going, Michael ?" 

Down to Father Dillon's to tell him what has 
occurred. Eemember, boys, you are to stay with 
your mother in my absence ; and she has some- 
thing you’ll be glad to see — a letter from your 
sister, that maybe will have more influence on 
your future movements than we know of now." 

The youths caught eagerly at his parting 
words. Does my father think of emigrating ? 
is that his meaning?" 

There's no telling how things may turn out," 
replied their mother, unwilling to discourage a 
hope which would tend to reconcile them to what 
had taken place. ‘‘ This is a very cheering ac- 
count, you will see. All day yesterday I was 
wishing you were here to rejoice over the good 
news from Kathleen." 

Would to heaven we had been at home," 
cried Mark, warmly. Oh why did not some 
presentiment hasten our return ? " 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 269 

Because a kind Providence was watching 
over you. Ah, children, how thankful was I last 
night that you were out of harm^s way. What 
would become of me if — she paused unable to 
give utterance to the fears that had so tortured 
her. 

Mother, said Prank, the sunny smile that 
gave such rare beauty to his face breaking 
through the anger and gloom that had darkened 
his brow, ^^who would think that you ever gloried 
in your relationship to the writer of this letter ! 
How could you have given your daughter so 
proudly to a rebel, a contemner of British law ? 
Let me stir up your slumbering patriotism, mo- 
ther dear, lest it be altogether crushed under this 
horrid nightmare of submission : for if a similar 
chance occur in our time don't you think, that 
more of your name will fling themselves as gladly 
into the strife, whether it lead to glory or the 
gallows 

The mother looked proudly on the kindling 
face of her boy. Her native patriotism sparkled 
in her tear-dimned eyes as she said : 

And I would not lay a straw in their way, 
Frank. No ! If the time does come, I would not 
be the one to keep husband or son back : though 
my heart would be sore at the parting, I feel 


270 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT 


that I would have courage to hid them God-epeed 
in the good cause. But that would be very dif- 
ferent from seeing you led off to the gallows or 
the convict-ship, for some act of violence, as 
foolish as wicked. The shame of that would be 
too much for me, and the sin — O, boys, boys ! it 
would crush the life out of your poor mother to 
know that the crime of bloodshed — 

She broke off shivering with horror at the idea 
that had presented itself. The two youths turned 
with a simultaneous impulse to the mother they 
idolized, and with loving words and embraces 
calmed her fears. 

‘^What a grand time Will is having!’^ sighed 
Mark as he glanced again over the letter. ^‘How 
I envy him his free, wild life in those backwoods 
of America 

Wouldn^t it be glorious to find ourselves with 
him and dear Kathie in the land they are begin- 
ning to love so well exclaimed Frank with 
enthusiasm. What a welcome they would give 
us, mother, and what fine limes we should all 
have together.^^ 

The patient mother listened with forced smiles 
as her boys, turning from the contemplacion of 
the gloomy present, sketched out a future in 
America as bright and untroubled as bouyant 


ORj THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 271 

young imagination could picture. Her heart 
sank with a dismal foreboding of separation from 
them, for she could see that the fancy both had 
long entertained for emigrating was now settling 
into a resolve, and she felt assured that her hus- 
band would never entertain the thought of leav- 
ing the land of his birth. But she would not 
check their glowing fancies by a word or look of 
discouragement, but silently thanked God that 
the fears which had tortured her through the 
night were all set at rest, and with renewed con- 
fidence committed herself and those who were 
dear to her to His keeping. When she saw her 
husband returning, she whispered them ^‘not to 
talk any more of emigrating just now;^^ and the 
young fellows readily understanding her mean- 
ing, dropped the subject, and helped in the pre- 
parations for an immediate removal, with a 
cheerfulness and alacrity surprising to their 
father, and in truth somewhat aggravating. 

With a sigh he reflected that the old place was 
not to them what it was to him. Every tree, 
and bush, and stone, was dear to him, connected 
with some memory that endeared them to his 
mind forever. The proudest castle in the land 
he would have esteemed a poor exchange for that 
humble home — that little corner of the vast 


272 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

possessions which had owned the O’Loiighlin’s 
for masters ere the evil days had come of con- 
fiscations and penal laws. But the boys had 
little share in these feelings. To them the place 
was dear as the home of their childhood^ but 
other places could become home and possess equal 
charms. The losses entailed by this removal — 
the shame of being evicted — the thought of see- 
ing others gain by their loss, reaping what they 
had sowed— these things weighed most heavily 
on the high-spirited youths. 

But the cup of humiliation was not yet drained : 
there was still a bitter potion remaining. They 
must see house and land handed over to one of 
the landlord’s pet converts — one of that despi- 
cable class whom the soupers’^ had won over’^ 
during the famine time, and who still remained 
true to the new lights’^ whose false glare had 
arisen on that era of gloom and woe. What 
were the feelings of the brothers as they beheld 
this worthy coming up the road, accompanied 
by the sheriff, who opened the house and went 
in with the new tenant to take a survey of the 
premises. This insult, added to injury, was too 
much for the young men’s patience or philoso- 
phy. With lowering brows they turned from 
gazing on the convert, and, as each met the 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 273 

flashing glance of the other, hand clasped hand 
in token of a mutual determination that instant 
formed. They had not spoken, yet the next mo- 
ment their secret purpose was rebuked by a 
solemn voice close beside them. 

‘^Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the 
Lord V’ 

Startled and abashed, the youths turned toward 
the speaker — Frank, with a forced laugh, ex- 
claiming : Ah, father, you are our good genius 
— always beside us when we least expect your 
presence 

“ And when you least desire it, probably re- 
turned the father, with a grave smile. Without 
laying claim to occult powei^s, I can divine that 
my appearance just now is as unwelcome as un- 
expected.’^ 

Well, Father Dillon,” said Mark, making an 
effort to hide his annoyance under an air of reck- 
lessness, ^^ril not be so unmannerly as to gain- 
say your powers of divination. Just now, your 
appearance is less welcome, I admit, than it 
would be at any other moment.” 

‘^And what of the unseen Presence, before 
whom you have not shrunk from forming schemes 
which you are unwilling that I should surmise ? 
No, no, my children; these potty plans of re- 


274 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


venge are not to be put into execution. They 
are as unworthy of Irishmen as unbecoming to 
Christians.^^ 

^^But, father, you have not seen what we have : 
a sight to set one's heart and brain on fire/' cried 
Mark, excitedly. 

I have seen all — I understand all, my boy. 
Your bitter feelings are natural, and hard to be 
controlled in such a case, I know. Still, why 
should you entertain resentment against the 
miserable creature who, a thousand times more 
irrational than Esau, has sacrificed his glorious 
birthright of faith for a paltry recompense from 
his tempters? .Believe me, he is more to be 
pitied than blamed. All these things are but 
parts of a system which must, ere long, be over- 
thrown. Until that day comes, our duty is to 
endure — patience and forbearance must be our 
motto." 

^^But if that day never comes," muttered 
Frank, in a tone of impatience. 

‘^It will come," was the confident reply. 

Perhaps these very acts of tyranny, under which 
we are so restive, may be intended, in the order 
of Providence, to bring about the end for which 
we wait so longingly. Yes; the time will come 
when Ireland's sons may rally around her with 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 275 

burning souls and strong arms, battling fqr her 
rights and their own. Keep your energies in 
reserve for that time, my brave boys — ^you will 
need them all then.^^ 

And then/^ said Frank, looking up to his be- 
loved pastor with a beaming smile, “ then, father, 
you will be with us/^ 

Aye, in that struggle I am with you, heart 
and soul. Next to my wish for heaven after 
death, is my wish during life to see Ireland free 
— ^free forever, from Saxon rule in any shape.^^ 
The boys unconsciously drew closer to the 
enthusiastic priest. How grand he looked at 
that moment — his noble countenance glowing 
with patriotic fire — his eloquent eyes uplifted to 
that heaven in which he trusted for the redemp- 
tion of his long-suffering country from a bondage 
the bitterness of which he knew full well. 

Never had the young O’Loughlins regarded 
their parish priest with such entire love and 
confidence, as at this moment, when he stood 
before them, seeming the impersonation of those 
two sublime feelings which are so closely con- 
nected in the Irish heart — love of God and love 
of country. Their eyes sparkling with enthu- 
siasm akin to his own, it was with an impulsive 
ardor, that told more eloquently than a thousand 


276 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

protestations how implicitly they would follow 
his guidance, that they voluntarily tendered the 
promise to refrain from offering insult or injury 
to the miserable apostate against whom their 
wrath had but now burned so fiercely. 

No wonder that the enemies of Catholicity 
and Ireland dread the influence of the priest 
that they grow terribly in earnest when depict- 
ing the enormous power thus wielded, and ex- 
haust their ingenuity in devising means to weaken 
that potent influence, and emancipate the poor, 
deluded creatures^^ from the chains they hug so 
fondly. Yet, how often are these champions of 
freedom indebted to that bugbear — the Catholic 
priest — for escape from the punishment they 
merit, at the hand of those whom they drive 
almost to desperation by their injustice. How 
quickly the trembling tyrants, and their abettors, 
look to the priest,^' whose wonderful influence 
is so desirable just then ! 

A word from Father Dillon directed the 
young men^s attention to their father, from 
whose demeanor in this painful crisis they could 
derive instruction and encouragement. If he 
who rules his own spirit is greater than he who 
takes a city, how truly great was this deeply- 
injured man, as he stood conversing quietly with 


OR, THE TENANTS OE A LORD BISHOP, 277 

the sheriff, whom he had accosted for the pur- 
pose of offering a manly apology for his fierce 
assault on the previous evening. The courteous 
officer received the explanation as frankly as it 
was given. From his own feelings he could make 
every allowance for what had been done under 
such circumstances. He acknowledged, how- 
ever, that O’Loughlin's frantic resistance had 
greatly surprised him, since he had attempted 
nothing of the kind on a similar occasion a few 
months previous. But he soon understood the 
great difference between then and now. In No- 
vember, O'Loughlin had been, in a manner, pre- 
pared for the appearance of the crowbar brigade 
on his premises. Having shared in the crime of 
his evicted neighbors, he had no reason to look 
for an exemption from the doom which had 
befallen them. At this time, too, the .eviction 
would not have been so disastrous. The harvest 
was gathered in, an ample supply of food stored 
away for the winter, and a good sum of money 
in hand after recent sales of produce. And, 
though it had been painful to him to think of 
leaving his old home, he could have procured a 
better and larger farm, under a better landlord, 
some of whose tenants were about to emigrate. 
How bitterly did he regret having trusted to the 


278 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

delusive clemency which had spared him then, 
only by a refinement of cruelty, to pounce upon 
him at a time when there was no vacant farm in 
the neighborhood; when the winter's expendi- 
ture and the aid given to his suffering neighbors 
had left him almost penniless ; when the plant- 
ing time was over, and every thing for the year 
depending on the fruits of that planting. But 
regret was of no avail now. The pardon'' so 
unexpectedly granted — certainly without any 
solicitation or promise of amendment on his 
part — had been as unexpectedly revoked, just at 
the time when the punishment would fall most 
heavily. 

The sheriff assented to the justness of his com- 
plaints; but informed him that Lord Woolcut 
had not revoked the pardon granted in Novem- 
ber. It was for a later offence against his Lord- 
ship, that O’Loughlin was now evicted, namely, 
the enormity of which he, or his sons rather, 
had been guilty, in hauling off stone from the 
property of Miss Wooleut for the priests school 
house ! 

O’Loughlin looked incredulously at the sheriff, 
who made this explanation with all the gravity 
imaginable. Then, the Irishman’s quick sense 
of the ludicrous and absurd overcoming his in- 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 279 

dignation, he suddenly broke forth into a hearty 
burst of laughter, much to the worthy sheriff's 
amazement. 

Well, well/' he exclaimed, after explaining 
to those who eagerly crowded around him, the 
cause of his sudden mirthfulness. Thank God I 
can laugh yet ! Little I thought any thing could 
draw a laugh from me this day. After all, 
Kathleen, I believe it is just as well for us to be 
done with this high-minded Lord Bishop, and 
that sweet, gentle lady, his daughter." 

Kathleen could not join in her husband's tran- 
sient fit of merriment. The sorrowful moment 
for leaving had arrived : it was all she could do 
to maintain an appearance of calmness, for the 
sake of the children, who were all watching their 
parents so wistfully, the younger ones unable to 
understand the trouble that had come so sud- 
denly. 

But her tears could no longer be restrained 
when, on reaching a turn of the road the whole 
family paused, as by one common impulse, to 
take a last lingering survey of the spot . so dear 
to all. Had it ever looked as beautiful as at that 
moment? Did ever the sun smile so brightly 
before on those smooth fields, where the soft 
rich green of the early wheat and clover, con- 


280 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

trasted so prettily with the rich brown of tht? 
fields, whose treasures were only begining to 
peep above the mellow surface ? And the snug 
old farm house, with its neat kitchen garden, in 
which, only yesterday, the industrious house- 
mother'^ had sowed the last of her early seeds ; 
the pretty flower garden, in which the dear girl, 
now far beyond the Atlantic's waves, had often 
worked so busily, and whose every bush and 
shrub was prized more than ever since her de- 
parture. No ; the mother could not take the 
long, yearning look she coveted, for the blinding 
tears would flow. She fell on her knees, and 
buried her face in her hands, in an agony of 
grief that could not be stayed. The children 
crowded about her echoing her convulsive sobs. 
The men and women who had so often worked 
merrily in those fields, and who had come with 
sad eagerness to help in the sorrowful moving, set 
up a wild, mournful wail that sounded strangely 
amidst the pleasant sights and sounds of that 
bright spring morning. 

A mute gesture from O'Loughlin hushed the 
loud lament. With a natural impulse of pride 
he scorned to give his persecutors the mean 
satisfaction, he knew they were capable of tak- 
ing, in the reports" that would reach them ; 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 281 

and there was manly dignity as well as tender 
affection, in the manner in which he raised and 
comforted his patient wife, who was now hastily 
choking back the rush of feeling that for the 
moment had overcome her fortitude. 

The priest had gone forward with the older 
children, affecting to chat pleasantly with them, 
while his heart, so full of every generous and 
kindly feeling, was aching for the woes of this 
good family. O'Loughlin threw his arm around 
his wife, and led her onward with a gentleness 
that ill accorded with the tumultuous feelings 
that agitated him at that moment. He was 
leading her away in poverty and sorrow from 
the home to which he had so proudly conducted 
her, a happy bride — leading her to the only 
place where they now could find shelter — an old 
school-house, which the kind priest had fitted up 
as well as his limited means would allow, as a 
temporary refuge for some of their fellow suf- 
ferers by landlord bigotry and oppression. And 
he had seen the God-forsaken creature, who had 
sold his faith, and his children's faith, for the 
bread that perishes, coolly surveying the late 
tenants from afar with a grin of exultation, and 
then turning away with an insolent leer to strut 
among the beautiful fields that he had got so 


282 THE CONFESSORS OP CONNAUGHT; 

snug/^ ploughed and planted to his hand. For 
was not all his? the growing crops, the labor 
of father, sons, and assistants for many busy 
weeks past, as well as all the little improvements 
and embellishments which taste had impelled 
the family to make, at the expense of toil and 
money — had not all come into his possession 
now, thanks to his lordship, the Bishop ?^^ Let 
the evicted tenant murmur of injustice, or de- 
mand a shilling of compensation, if he dared. 
Was not all done legally, and were not what he 
called his wrongs a portion of that enlightened 
and benevolent code of laws, by which England 
governs her sister Isle ? 

Yes, as Dr. Cahill wrote on his very subject : 

English Imperial legislation is known only to 
the Catholics of Ireland by its persecuting land- 
lord tyranny, its depopulated fields, its leveled 
villages, its proselytising poor-houses. Its char- 
acter may be best learned in the bands of desti- 
tute, broken hearted emigrants, of children torn 
from parents, of guileless girls wrenched from 
home, all wending their mournful way to the 
next Irish port, to seek in a foreign country the 
protection, the support, the roof, which, in their 
struggle for life, are denied to them at home. 
The whole world can present few pictures of 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 283 

nati5!ial legislation and distress more crushing 
than the history of Ireland, during the last fifteen 
years. And what renders our case so unendura- 
ble is, that our national tyrannies are said to be 
just because they are legal ; our expulsion is urged 
as tenable, because it is done according to the 
law of landlord and tenant, and our complaints, 
our tears are declared seditious and rebellious, 
because the law by which we are starved and 
killed is the law of the English Constitution. 
Alas ! this fiction of calling the most ferocious 
action by the name of law, is the cruel, perfidious 
device by which the people of Ireland have been 
robbed and murdered. JDhe iniquity of hu- 
man law received its final definition on Calvary, 
where the Messiah was put to death by the laws 
of the Roman Emperor ; and the laws of England 
in their application to Ireland are best under- 
stood in your tenantless soil, your deserted har- 
bors, and in the hundreds of thousands of 
wandering Irish children, who are seen going, in 
this country, from town to town, in search of 
one peaceful, solitary spot where they can rest 
their weary limbs, and lay down their aching 
heads, free from the insults of the infidel Biblical, 
and from the terrors of the merciless landlord.^^ 
(Letter of the Rev. Dr. Cahill to the People of 
Ireland, May, 1861.) 


CHAPTER XV. 

The Evicted Tenants. 





there be truth in the old adage, that 
1 misery loves company/^ the Bartry- 
! more sufferers were not without con- 
solation, for other evictions of refrac- 
tory tenants rapidly followed, the war 
being carried on with commendable 
vigor by the noble army of prose- 
lytising landlords in that ill-fated neighborhood. 
Among the later victims of this zeal for religion 
some were tenants of Lord Woolcut, and a still 
larger number of his daughter, who lost no time 
in following the good example of her noble father, 
and << ridding^^ her estate of intractable ‘‘ Eoman- 


ists/^ 

A short period of inaction followed. The zeal- 
ous promulgators of the gospef^ took a resting 
spell. Perhaps the Lord Bishop was deterred 
for a time from the prosecution of his relentless 
policy, by the unenviable notoriety he had gain- 
( 284 ) 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP* 285 

ed. For the parish priest of Bartiymore had 
taken care to have the history of those three 
days in November’’ spread far and wide; and 
Lord Woolcut’s cruelty was almost universally 
denounced as an outrage against humanity as 
well as against the rights of conscience. Even 
the “ London Times” was roused to indignation, 
and pronounced the Landlord’s conduct a hid- 
eous scandal. 

But in one quarter the proselytising bishop 
found advocates ready not only to excuse but to 
applaud the barbarity of which he had been guil- 
ty ; and the course pursued by Parliament, in 
reference to a matter in which the voice of hu- 
manity should have silenced the promptings of 
bigotry and intolerance, ought surely have suf- 
ficed to enlighten those who profess to believe 
that ^‘justice to Ireland’’ can be obtained in a 
legal and peaceful way, through the medium of 
the Imperial Parliament of Great Britian and 
Ireland.” When the mournful story of those 
evicted families was told, forcibly and with 
^touching pathos, by two of the Irish members, 
it might have been expected that every member 
of the House would be willing to denounce such 
atrocities as unworthy of ^‘the great nineteenth 
century, which is so often eulogized in that as- 


286 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


sembly as the age of toleration, philanthropy, 
and all other Christian virtues. But, on the con- 
trary, one honorable member hastened to justify 
all that the landlord had done, saying that the 
charge against him was that he had attempted 
on a grand scale a system of proselytising. As 
a Protestant Bishop, he would have been guilty 
of a gross dereliction of duty if he had not done 
so. It was the duty of the Lord Bishop and of 
every Protestant landlord to attempt the re- 
clamation of their tenantry from the social evil 
of Eomanism. In another part of this speech the 
intelligent and truthful speaker boldly asserted 
that ‘‘ the evils of Ireland are directly traceable 
to the teaching of the Eoman Catholic Priests.^^ 
The defence'^ of Lord Woolcut was- continued 
by two of the Tory leaders, who recklessly 
asserted that the tenants had been evicted in 
consequence of some breach of law — regardless 
of the fact, that his lordship's agent and teachers 
had admitted that the evictions were intended 
to strike terror into those who refused to comply 
with his earnest desire." They next proceeded ^ 
to assail the character of the holy and intrepid 
Priest, whose vigilance had protected the little 
ones of his flock against the snare laid for them. 
It was so much easier to bring false charges 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 287 

against the unfortunate tenants and their Pastor, 
than to answer the true one against their favo- 
rite Bishop. But, while laboring to set the mat- 
ter in dispute in a false light, both gentlemen 
carefully abstained from saying a word in con- 
demnation of landlords evicting honest and in. 
dustrious tenants, merely because they refused 
to send their children to the proselytising schools. 
Neither they, nor any of their party, found fault 
with the plea advanced by the former speaker, 
that the Protestant Bishop was bound in duty 
to attempt a system of proselytising on a grand 
scale.^^ In pleasing contrast with the various 
harangues, which seemed to rival one another in 
ignorance and violence, was a speech of a mem- 
ber, on the government side, who defended the 
evicted tenants from the charge of Eibbonism,^' 
and offence against the law,^' so recklessly 
uttered by the other speakers; and traced all 
the evils which had taken place to the Bishop's 
system of proselytism. This gentleman (Mr. 
Cardwell) nobly avowed his detestation of the 
cruel policy of the Lord Bishop, and his sym- 
pathy with the innocent victims; yet even he 
stopped short of wishing justice done in the 
case, for ‘^he could not see what would be 
gained" by having the subject referred to a Com- 
mittee of the House for investigation. 


288 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Well might Ireland’s noblest, truest patriot, 
Smith O’Brien, say to the Irish people — You 
have tried the intervention of English Whigs, 
you have tried the intervention of English 
Tories, in regard to the affairs of Ireland. Both 
of these parties have failed to satisfy the require- 
ments of the Irish nation. They have at one 
time caressed and duped you ; at another time 
they have coerced and oppressed you.” 

Happy would it be for the people of Ireland 
if they were practically to remember this earnest 
warning, from one to whose memory they owe 
the deepest gratitude. Happier still, if, casting 
to the winds the miserable dissentions and dif- 
ferences so artfully fostered among them by the 
common enemy, they would resolutely set them- 
selves to carrying out the policy, so affection- 
ately and cheeringly urged in the same eloquent 
letter, written by Mr. O’Brien to Mr. Maguire, 
M. P., in 1861 

Let us now try what we can do for ourselves. 
Let us seek to establish in and out of Parlia- 
ment — at home and abroad — in the British colo- 
nies, and amongst foreign nations, a party 
which shall not be a Whig or a Tory party; 
which shall not be an English party, nor a 
French party, but which shall be thoroughly 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 289 

Irish, and truly national. Now, since about 
three-fourths of the Irish people profess the 
Catholic faith, as taught by the Church of Eome, 
it is natural and right that the Catholics should 
take the lead in such a movement; but I feel 
convinced that there are many thousands of 
Irish Protestants, who would resist to the death 
the introduction of a French army into this 
country, yet would sincerely rejoice to witness 
the re-establishment of the automony — the self- 
government of Ireland by a domestic Parlia- 
ment— and who would earnestly co-operate with 
an Irish party, if it were guided by wisdom and 
toleration. Let me then appeal to such men as 
you and The O’Donoghue — let me appeal to the 
influential journalists — let me appeal to the 
patriotic clergy — let me appeal to such of the 
landlords as love Ireland — let me entreat you and 
them to set on foot the formation of such a party. 
Make once more this experiment 1 It is my 
belief that the Irish nation will respond to your 
exertions, even though universal distrust has 
been generated by the failure of former etforts. 
There is a spring of hope in the Irish breast, 
which may be repressed for an hour, but which 
will irresistibly discover a vent for its gushing 
stream. Unlock that reservoir, and it will 


290 THE CONFESSORS OP CONNAUGHT; 

overspread this land with a fertilizing flood, 
which shall revive to a new vegetation the 
latent seeds of onr national regeneration/^ 

Is this a digression? Even so, we will not 
so misjudge the readers of our humble pages, as 
to deem it necessary to apologize for pausing to 
cull this thought-blossom,'^ so full of eloquence 
and feeling. For where is the Irish heart that 
does not throb with quickened pulse at the men- 
tion of William Smith O'Brien? Where the 
lover of Ireland or of liberty, that loves not to 
linger over every reminiscence of him, who was 
at once the tolerant Christian and ardent pat- 
riot — the long suffering and indomnitable ^^con- 
fessor of Freedom" — the disinterested friend 
and champion of his countrymen always, their 
flatterer, never?" Alas for the land of his love, 
that she must be a mourner now over his tomb, 
that the talents and virtues so well fi^ed for her 
guidance are lost to her forever ! And yet, if the 
day of ‘^national regeneration," the day to 
which he looked forward with ‘^passionate aspi- 
ration" ever dawn on Erin-— if her sons manfully 
rise up to devote to their country's cause, the 
heroism and energy they so lavishly display in 
the service of other lands — from that honored 
grave at Cahirmoyle, as from the unmarked 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 291 

resting-place of Emmet, will come the thrilling 
whisper^^ that will urge them on to noble deeds. 

Happily for the credit of human nature the 
unjust and illiberal spirit, manifested by the 
British Parliament, found few imitators. Deep 
sympathy was every where manifested for the 
Bartrymore victims ; sympathy not confined 
merely to words, grateful as even these were to 
the feelings of the suiferers. The touching story 
of their wrongs and their heroic fidelity found 
an echo in other lands. The Bishop of Orleans, 
the eloquent and intrepid defender of the rights 
of the Pope, with that ever active benevolence 
which distinguishes him, even among a Hier- 
archy renowned for every generous and noble 
quality, proposed to preach a sermon in the 
church of St. Eoch, Paris, les pauvres Irland- 
ais, A ludicrous circumstance gave additional 
interest to this sermon, and, by drawing even 
more attention to it than it was sure to have re- 
ceived from the fame of the gifted preacher, 
added both to the notoriety of the unfortunate 
Lord Woolcut, and to the amount of material 
aid contributed by the Parisians to his victims. 

As ‘^St. Patrick’s day” was near at hand, and 
moreover fell that year on Sunday, some of the 

Sassenachs” in Paris, who heard of the pro- 


292 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

posed sermon for the poor Irish, jumped to the 
conclusion that that day was the one appointed 
for the purpose : what could come more apropos ? 
But, Unluckily for the wise prognostications of 
John Bull, a festival was approaching, which, to 
the Catholic bishop, was of infinitely more im- 
portance than even the feast of Ireland’s great 
saint, and much more appropriate for h^s charity 
sermon. The festival of the Annunciation — that 
time-honored anniversary of the hallowed day 
when the Angel’s message to the Virgin of Naza- 
reth announced that the time of the world’s re- 
demption was at hand — what more suitable day 
than the one on which ‘Hhe Word was made 
flesh and dwelt among us,’^ to enlist the feelings 
of the pious and humane in behalf of the victims 
of misfortune, and urge them to give freely in 
honor of Him who considers as done to Himself 
what is done even to the least of His brethren ! 

But stubborn Johnny Bull had got hold of 
an idea,” and the world knows he is pretty good 
at holding fast to whatever he gets ; so on the 
2l8t of March the London Morning Post had the 
pleasure of laying before its patrons a letter from 
our Paris correspondent,” commenting on the 
charity sermon preached in the Church of St. 
Roch, by the Bishop of Orleans, on the Sunday 


OB, THE TENANTS OP A LORD BIS HOP. 293 

previous! The brilliant and ingenious writer 
described this sermon as — 

^^Ecpeating every abominable falsehood, em- 
bodying every possible accusation of cruelty, 
tyranny, and religious persecution against the 
Bishop of Tuam, and ignoring altogether the 
remotest doubt of their absolute truth 

And giving his lively imagination full scope, 
ne ventured to entertain his readers with the 
surmise that, as 

^<Eoman Catholic priests, like the Eoman 
augurs, cannot meet each others^ eyes without a 
smile, there must have been rare merriment in 
the sacristy oJ^ St. Eoch, after the sermon of 
Monsignor Dupanloup.^^ 

These extracts may serve as specimens of the 
criticism published^ nearly a week in advance 
of the sermon. Whht a commentary on the 
spirit manifested by a portion of the impartial 
and infallible press of Great Britain, in its deal- 
ings with Irish affairs, and with those of Catho- 
lics in general. 

But the blunder of the ingenious letter- writer 
was not the only one to which this famous ser- 
mon gave rise. The Eight Eeverend hero of the 
November evictions heard of Monsignor Dupan- 
loup^s intention, and, with all the cowardice of 


294 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

conscious guilt, imagined that the object of the 
sermon must be to denounce Ms cruelty and op- 
pression. In the plenitude of his wisdom he 
thinks to prevent the anticipated censure making 
the impresssion he fears on the public mind, by 
writing an indgnant protest, designating the 
French prelate^s discourse as a remarkable 
falsehood,'^ and ‘^a scaffolding of calumnies;'^ 
and still farther to display his common sense, he 
sends this protest against the sermon about to 
be delivered to the British ambassador at Paris, 
by whom it is immediately given to the world 
through the columns of the Journal des Dehats. 
Here, indeed, was cause sufficient for rare mer- 
riment’^ to the lively and sarcastic Parisians. 
The grotesque blunders of newspaper corres- 
pondent, Lord Bishop, and Ambassador, set ‘^all 
Paris in a roar,'’ and furnished occasion for innu- 
merable jests and satires on ‘Hhose poor Eng- 
lish,” whom Madame de Stael aptly described as 
having two left hands. In the midst of the 
mirthful sensation thus excited, the noble pre- 
late, whose ^‘remarkable falsehood” was thus 
politely contradicted in advance, sent to the 
Journal des Debats a letter which was generally 
applauded as an admirable specimen of that 
epistolary talent for which his country is distin- 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 295 


guished, and which we therefore take the liberty 
of transcribing in full : 

‘‘Sir: — P ermit me to express some surprise at your 
having inserted in your paper of the 22d inst., a letter, 
having for its object to protest beforehand against a charity 
sermon which I have to preach in Paris on the 26th, for 
the Irish poor. 

“The writer of that letter, Mr , Lord Bishop of 

the Anglican Church, and a rich proprietor in Ireland, 
designates my future words as a ‘ scatfolding of calumnies.’ 
He is a very clever man, if he knows what I shall say, for 
I humbly confess that I am not quite so well informed on 
that point as he is. 

“He does not deny that there are poor persons in Ire- 
land, and that fact suffices for me to ask charity for them. 

“Who has made these persons poor ? 

“I do not mean to accuse any one, nor yet to contest 
that Bishop’s right to dismiss his tenants in the winter 
season. I merely congratulate him on not being a Bishop 
in the States of the Church. To what accusations would 
he not be exposed at this moment throughout all England ! 

“As for myself, who am a Catholic Bishop, wheresoever 
I find poverty, if I inquire into the cause of it, I seek 
above all to diminish the weight of it. This will be the 

whole object of my sermon, by the leave of Bishop , 

whose cause has been sufficiently judged, and about whom 
I have no intention to occupy myself. I surrender to his 
criticisms my sermon the moment it has issued from my 
lips. But, though much habituated to discussion, this is 
the first time that I have had to answer for words which 
have not as yet been uttered. 


296 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

“ You will, I am sure, as an act of justice, insert these 
lines in your next number. 

“Keceive, «&c., 

“Felix, Bishop of Orleans.*’ 

Thus the unfortunate Anglican Bishop had 
only succeeded in giving fresh prominence to his 
particular share in producing the sufferings of 
the Irish poor. However indifferent to the cause 
of his evicted tenants the people of Paris had 
hitherto been, they could not fail to have their 
curiosity now excited on the subject. The result 
was that the Church of St. Eoch was filled with 
a vast crowd on the afternoon of the feast of the 
Annunciation, there being not less than four 
thousand persons present, according to the esti- 
mate of the Paris correspondent of the London 
Times. As to the sermon, we will take the same 
gentleman^s description of it, in preference to 
quoting Catholic authority : 

It was, in fact, a lecture on Ireland as a na- 
tion, illustrated with quotations portraying its 
superiority in religious tenacity, in patriotism, 
in martial courage, in domestic life, and espe- 
cially its powers of endurance in suffering, per- 
sonal and political. It took two hours in delivery, 
and was listened to with breathless attention^ 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 297 

The preacher amiouDced at the outset his purpose 
to commit his statements at once to print, and 
warmly repudiated Hhe charges made against 
him by anticipation/ ‘ I come not here/ he said, 
^ to add a fresh irritation to the wounds of con- 
troversy — I am here solely to advocate the cause 
of misfortune, not to perform the part of an ac- 
cuser. This is not a political question, nor is it 
one of religious controversy; but it is a just and 
heavenly cause, conducting me to a higher region 
than that of human politics, where the human 
heart may linger to survey by turns, what is 
pure and exalted, and what is abased and tram- 
pled upon.^ Tie then proceeded, in the highest 
strains of French eloquence, to hold up the na- 
tional points of character, introducing some 
telling allusions to O'Connell, McMahon, and 
the assimilation of the Celtic to the Gallic type 
of character.^^ 

Such was the discourse which had so oddly 
excited the fears and drawn forth the blundering 
protests of the ‘^Anglican Bishop" and his friends. 
Those who heard or read it could be at no loss 
to decide which production was most entitled to 
be called ‘^abominable falsehoods," or ‘‘scaffold- 
ing of calumnies." The gifted preacher had the 
satisfaction of knowing that the cause he advo- 


298 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

cated was benefitted by the false charges made 
against him ; for the sermon was no less success- 
ful as a work of charity than as a noble effort of 
learning and eloquence. The Empress Eugenie — 
blessings on her generous heart — that is ever 
raedy to respond to the cry of misery ! sent her 
contribution. The ladies of the Court set a noble 
example of charity, which was widely imitated ; 
so that the result of the muchrabused sermon 
was a very tangible proof of French sympathy 
for the persecuted children of Erin. 

The holy priest of Bartrymore received, with 
a father's joy and gratitude, this noble offering 
to his poor people.'' Added to the aid received 
at home from <‘good Christians like yourself" 
(as he wrote to Smith O'Brien), it enabled him 
to provide for the most pressing wants of his dis- 
tressed parishioners, and to secure their eventual 
comfort by procuring an interest in good farming 
land, on which to settle them as soon as the pre- 
liminary arrangements could be made and cabins 
built. This would be a work of time, but mean- 
while the evicted tenants could comfort them- 
selves with the prospect of again having homes 
of their own ; and who that knows the gratitude 
of which the Celtic heart is capable, could doubt 
that their prayers were pure and fervent enough 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 299 

to call down blessings on the generous benefac- 
tors who had made the cause of the poor and 
persecuted their own ! 

And yet the patient sufferers had much to 
trouble and annoy them. Those new homes in 
a strange neighborhood would never be to them 
like those from which they had been so rudely 
driven; and there was still much to be endured 
before they would be finally settled in them, not- 
withstanding all that charity and kindness could 
accomplish. The health of most of them had 
suffered from the inclemency of the weather at 
the time of the evictions. Their few household 
effects had been damaged in the frequent remo- 
vals from one place of shelter to another; and 
their horses and cattle were but little more than 
skeletons after the winter's exposure among the 
mountains, lacking both food and shelter. 

To add to their distress, the large croj)8 so gener- 
ally calculated on, which would have enabled kind 
friends to give them substantial assistance, did 
not reward the farmer's toil. The summer was 
an unfavorable one, and proved the forerunner 
of a period of want and misery throughout ‘‘the 
WesV’ almost as severe as the memorable famine 
of 1846 and 1847. Again the hopes of the “ Irish 
Church Missionary Establishment " brightened ; 


800 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

again tlie walls of Exeter Hall echoed with 
^^good news from Ireland/^ and purses were 
freely opened for the support of the Missions 
whieh surely could not fail of being sueeessful 
now, when cruel laws, oppressive taxes, and bad 
seasons were producing the bitterest destitution 
among the poorer classes in Connaught. 

But, through all, their fidelity to the old reli- 
gion remained unshaken, and the hopes and 
schemes of the proselytisers once more came to 
naught. Watched over with aifectionate and 
unwearied care by devoted priests and bishops ; 
sustaining one another’s sinking “courage” by 
lively sympathy, and that unanswerable reflec- 
tion “ it is the will of God,” with which the pious 
peasant consoles himself with child-like submis- 
sion and confidence under every affliction ; the 
faithful people of Connaught still preserved un- 
tarnished that bright gem of faith which was 
the richest ornament of Erin’s crown in the ages 
of her power and glory, and which centuries of 
fell tyranny and persecution have been unable 
to pluck from her brow. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

The Bishop’s Pound. 



I Sunday morning in early summer — one 
1 of those beautiful days that seem to 
i speak of joy to the sorrowing, and hope 
to the downcast; so full of mellowed 
brightness, of pure, heavenly radiance. 
The most troubled heart in Bartrymore felt its 
tranquilizirig influence. Earth’s cares, and sor- 
rows, and temptations seemed matters of but 
little moment, and the merry laugh and good- 
humored joke went from one group to another, 
that wended happily along to the cross-crowned 
church, the one central point of interest to those 
faithful Christians. 

It had rained heavily through the night, but 
now the sun is breaking gloriously through the 
white, half-transparent clouds that are scattered 
over the smiling sky; and the daisy-bespangled 
turf, and the sweet hawthorn brambles that line 
the way, are all the more fresh and beautiful 
( 801 ) 


302 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

from the liquid jewels with which night has 
dowered them. The air is full of fragrance and 
softness, and vocal with the rich notes of the 
thrush and blackbird, ringing out a joyous 
melody that thrills every heart. 

But hark, what harsh noises are those which 
suddenly break in upon the sweet harmonys of 
nature ? A confused chorus of horrid sounds— 
neighing, lowing, braying and bleating — ^pro- 
ceeding apparently from the church yard, fills 
the wondering congregation with horror and un- 
definable dread. While some shrink back, others 
spring upon the wall of the church yard, and 
behold a spectacle which might well madden 
cooler and more phlegmatic nature than those 
horror-struck beholders can claim. Close beside 
the grave yard Lord Woolcut had built his 

Pound, so close, indeed, that a part of the 
grave yard wall had been torn down to accomo- 
date the wall of the Bishop's Pound." Could 
any sight be more galling to those warm-hearted 
people, whose friends and kindred reposed in 
that consecrated church yard ! For a moment 
grief and indignation chained every tongue, and 
held every eye fixed on the horrifying spectacle. 
The remains of the dear and honored dead on 
one side of the wall — on the other the half-starved 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 303 

captive beasts, whose fierce plunges and frantic 
cries of rage and distress were horrible to hear. 
Had a breach of the peace’^ that instant re- 
sulted — had those deeply-tried men, already 
goaded almost beyond human indurance, rushed 
forth to retaliate on their enemies this cruel and 
unprovoked insult to the living and the dead, 
who could have blamed them? In fact an un. 
biased person would be apt to imagine that such 
a result was expected and desired ; else surely 
his Lordship, in having his pound removed from 
its former location, would have had it built on 
some spot of his extensive property, where it 
would not be a nuisance and an outrage on 
the feelings of thousands of human beings. 
Even if those warm and tender feelings — that 
deep reverence for the House of God — that lov- 
ing respect for the remains of the faithful de- 
parted — for which the Celtic race is so eminently 
distinguished, were only superstitions in the esti- 
mation of the enlightened Bishop of the State 
Church, still as a humane man, a zealous up- 
holder of the law, and a professing Christian, he 
would have scorned to offer such a wanton in- 
sult to that Christian congregation. 

Perhaps, in the long catalogue of the Lord 
Bishop^s outrages on the peaceful and unoffend- 


304 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

ing peoxjle of Bartrymore, none was so heinous 
as this ; none so well calculated to make “ rebel- 
lious'^ or seditious'^ feeling burst all restraint. 
And yet, it was borne. The natural indigna- 
tion, the burning sense of injury was controlled, 
not by fear — oh no, the most unscrupulous ma- 
ligner would scarcely bring that charge against 
Irish character — but by the sublime influence of 
that creed to which they only clung the more 
tenaciously, the more they were doomed to suf- 
fer for its sake. And many a whispered ‘‘ amen’^ 
responded to the heartfelt ejaculation of one 
weeping woman — 

God forgive you, Lord Woolcut — you’re a 
hard man and a cruel one — but may the Lord 
open your eyes to the truth ! That’s all the harm 
I wish you this day.” 

So the pound was left undisturbed; nor could 
Father Dillon’s urgent remonstrances prevail on 
the ruling powers to have this obnoxious relic of 
by-gone ti^mes removed to a more appropriate 
site. The Lord Bishop had chosen to place it in 
close proximity to the Popish Chapel,” and 
there ik should remain. What matter that the 
instructions of the pastor were broken in upon, 
by the shrill cries of impounded animals; that 
the sweet strains of the rustic choir, chanting 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 305 

the praise of the Most High, were overpowered^ 
by the horrid clamor from the Bishop's pound ; 
that every prayer of the fervent or penitent 
soul to its Creator, was interupted by the howls 
and yells of the starving brutes, jarring on the 
feelings of the kneeling worshippers ? 

During three months they submitted to this 
outrage, to the astonishment of their watchful 
enemies, and undoubtedly to their disappoint- 
ment; for now another provocation was given 
to the too patient people. 

Coming to hear Mass one Sunday in August, 
the congregation were struck with mingled sad- 
ness and indignation on finding the church win- 
dows broken. This sacrilege was the work of 
some of the convert settlers, who gloried in mani- 
festing the liberty they enjoyed of vexing and in- 
juring the papists. Their laudable purpose they 
were able to carry out with the greater impu- 
nity, as Lord Woolcut had taken care to remove 
all the Catholic families from the neighborhood 
of the parish church, and their places"— as 
Father Dillon wrote to Sir Eobert Peel, were 
occupied by bullocks, sheep, and Protestant 
settlers.'^ 

The spectacle presented by St. Patrick's 
church on this Sunday, the good Father averred, 


806 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 


would have shocked the heart of any man not 
^totally bereft of the sense of religion/^ What 
then must have been thie feelings of that ardent 
congregation, whose holiest affections were 
indissolubly twined around that sacred temple 
of religion ? Human nature could not brook this 
indignity, and some of the settlers who, from a 
safe distance, were watching curiously to see 
how the papists would take it,'^ were seized 
with consternation, on beholding those sturdy 
fellows turn away from the church with looks 
and exclamations of ungovernable passion. What 
would they do? Would they rush headlong to 
the Protestant church, and retaliate the out- 
rage, or avenge themselves by demolishing 
the dwellings of those pet ‘‘ converts,'^ who oc- 
cupied the homes for a mile around, from which 
they had been ruthlessly driven ? 

No. Even in that moment of fierce excite- 
ment, not one of those deluded and benighted 
Eomanists’^ dreamed of seeking revenge for the 
desecration of their holy temple, by injuring 
any building erected for purposes of Christian 
worship, however erroneous they deemed the 
religion taught therein ; nor, save among a few 
of the wildest spirits, was a thought entertained 
of attacking the settlers, making the innocent 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 307 

suffer along with the guilty. But a simultaneous 
rush was made for the pound, and in a very few 
moments its wall was levelled to the ground. 

There I” cried Mark O’Loughlin, one of the 
most active in the work, “If-the Lord Bishop 
has wit enough to learn a lesson from this, so 
much the better for him — ^let him understand 
that whatever else he may do, his power to insult 
and trample on us, shall not extend to the house 
ofGod.^' 

Aye, it was but folly for us to allow it from 
the firsV^ exclaimed another whose words had 
the more weight from his usually quiet de- 
meanor. If we had resisted this outrage our 
church would not have the mark of sacriligious 
hands to-day.’^ 

True for you, Mr. Boyle. They thought it 
was afraid of them we were, and we only striving 
to keep the hot blood down as in duty bound ; 
but, faith, if they put us to it — 

Come, come, boys, no threats nor fuss now,^’ 
put in the deep voice of Michael O'Loughlin. 
a WeVe pulled down that which we should never 
have allowed to be built on this spot, and I be- 
lieve we are all agreed that it shall never stand 
here again.^^ 

A loud, energetic response from all present 
gave token of the general determination. 


308 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

Then let there be an end of the matter now. 
We’ll go quietly into church, in the name of God, 
for it’s full time.” 

The crowd, feeling the propriety of his coun- 
sel, and satisfied with what they had done, 
dropped off one by one, composing their ruffled 
tempers to a proper mood for entering the sacred 
temple. But some whispered that as to having 
an end of the matter the end had not come yet,” 
to which others nodded assent and whispered in 
turn, we’ll see it out with them now that 
they’ve put us to it.” 

And truly the matter was not to end so easily, 
for Lord Woolcut still cherished his unlucky 
propensity for giving the utmost notoriety to 
deeds which it would have been wiser to leave 
sink into oblivion. No attention had been paid 
to Father Dillon’s remonstrances, against what 
he had truly designated a nuisance and a tres- 
pass; no concern had been manifested for the 
breaking of the church windows ; but as soon as 
rude hands were laid on that pound, the Lord 
Bishop and his compatriots were thrown into a 
fever of excitement. From the five barracks, 
which were at his Lordship’s command in the 
interest of law and order, issued squads of 
police, well armed and ready for any emergency. 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 309 

Orderlies were constantly going to and fro be- 
tween the legal and the religious authorities ; 
from the ostentatious and gigantic preparations 
made, it might be imagined that the country 
was on the eve of one of those terrible rebellions 
which are always so fortunately discovered just 
at the right moment. On Sunday the police 
paraded with shouldered muskets in the vicinity 
of St. Patrick's, that the misguided congregation 
might see that the whole machinery of law and 
order was in requisition to compel them to keep 
the peace and respect the rights of property. 
The formidable conspirators had no need of the 
warning or menace. They had succeeded in their 
aim, and were not disposed to further outrages’^ 
when they found that the pound was removed to 
another location. 

But if the worthy Anglican Bishop was forced 
to give up his original design, he found consola- 
tion in inflicting a severe punishment for that 
outrageous attack on his property. The Police 
Tax was increased to 85 . 2<i. in the pound — a 
frightful burden on the already overtaxed, hard- 
working people of that poor district. The dis- 
tress occasioned by this cruel imposition of an 
unjust tax — the harrowing scenes witnessed 
when the bailiffs made their dreaded raids into 


310 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

the poor villages, invading every house, rudely 
searching for some hidden store of money to 
satisfy the tax-gatherer, and in default thereof 
seizing on cow, pig, or sheep, anything that 
came in their way which would bring enough to 
pay for the breaking of Lord Woolcut^s pound — 
would pain the coldest heart, and rouse the 
tamest looker-on to indignation. Yet the vic- 
tims of this unworthy stroke of vengeance were 
expected not only to suffer all without murmur- 
ing or discontent, but to be ardent and devoted 
champions of the laWy which in this as in a thou- 
sand similar instances, proves the ready instru- 
ment for oppressing them at the whim of every 
narrow-minded and vindictive landlord. 

And t}he world at large — the kind-hearted 
nineteenth century — xoonders why this irrepress- 
ible Celtic nature is forever revolting in its 
aimless, senseless way against law and civiliza- 
tion. Why will unfortunate Ireland persist in 
meeting with suspicion, and repaying with in- 
gratitude, every effort of the sister kingdom for 
her amelioration and improvement. 

Alas ! The world, ready enough at sharing 
its abundance with the poor Irish'' when the 
cry of starving thousands is borne to its shud- 
dering ear, cannot see the great original cause 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 811 


of all this poverty and wretchedness. It accepts 
the explanation snceringly given by British 
philanthropy, and settles itself in the conviction 
that Ireland’s misery springs from her obstinate 
adherence to tradition — tenant right traditions — 
agitating traditions — remedial traditions — above 
all, religious traditions ! Here is the solution of 
the problem. Superstition^ thriftlessness and ig- 
norancey together with the boggy soil and wretched 
climate — these produce the evil, and how can 
can England remedy it ? The priests are re- 
sponsible for the first — a mysterious Providence 
for the last : — there is no need of further inquiry 
or explanation. 

‘‘England,^’ says John Mitchell, in his quaint 
way, has been left in possession not only of the 
soil of Ireland, with all that grows and lives 
thereon, but in possession of the world’s ear also. 
She may pour into it what tale she will, and all 
mankind will believe her. — Any hostile comment 
upon her way of telling our story, is an unman- 
nerly interruption ; nay, is nothing short of an 
Irish howl” 



<2 


CHAPTER XVII. 


A Parting Scene. 

X a bleak March morning a little 
procession of men, women and chil- 
dren — some three-score souls in all — 
moved slowly and sorrowfully down 
the avenue from the parish priest’s 
house towards the high road. At 
their head were the O’Loughlins, 
who after two years’ heroic endurance of unac- 
customed toil and privation, were now proceed- 
in to their new home. They were all there, a 
touching family picture — father, mother and 
eight children. For, though many letters had 
been sent by the absent daughter and her hus- 
band, urging them to come to America,” where 
William would soon build them a snug log-cabin 
adjoining his own, never for a moment could the 
father entertain the thought of leaving his native 
land. And Mark and Frank, in the fervor of 
their filial piety had abandoned, for the present, 
at least, their scheme of emigrating; they could 
( 312 ) 



OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 313 

not take a step which would add to the aflliction 
of their parents. 

But had their destination been across the At- 
lantic, the grief of the family and of their neigh- 
bors — partakers in their hardships and trials — 
eould scarcely have been more bitter. Bidding 
adieu to their old parish, to places endeared by 
a thousand fond recollections, was a sad addition 
to their other woes; and though hope beckoned 
them onward, still would memory turn regret- 
fully to the past. No wonder then that the 
voice of lamentation went up from that mourn- 
ful procession; that sobs broke forth from old 
and young, as they looked their last at the places 
which would know them no more — at the be- 
loved pastor, benefactor and friend, to whom 
their hearts were bound by every tie of religion 
and gratitude. 

And little less was his emotion as he gave his 
parting blessing, and spoke a few glowing words 
of affection and counsel to that faithful little 
band, who had so nobly repaid his pastoral love 
and care, in the martyr-like spirit with which 
they had endured humiliation, want and misery 
for the faith of Christ. In his own touching 
language, that parting scene ‘‘ was heart-rending, 
bringing up at once to my memory all the hor- 


314 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

rors of the three days of November, 1860, when 
I saw the bishop^s crowbar do such deadly work, 
guarded and sustained by the hrave arms of the 
Queen of England; and at the same time con- 
juring to my imagination all the roofless homes, 
and extinguished and ruined hopes, and broken 
hearts, and widows and orphans, and misery and 
dark desolation, that have been the staple of our 
social life within the short space of fifteen years 

Well might the Father's eyes grow dim and 
his voice husky with emotion as those harrow- 
ing pictures presented themselves to his mind. 
But this would not do — he must not dismiss 
those faithful people, looking up to him with 
such reverential affection, in tears. 

Conquering his emotion by a brave effort, he 
consoled them by speaking in fervid language of 
that beautiful bond of union, by which the church 
binds all her children together, however widely 
separated by distance; reminding them that the 
foot of the altar may truly be termed the rendez* 
vous where all the members of her fold, whether 
living or dead, may meet in spirit, and sweetly 
feel that for them there is no real parting — no 
sorrowful separation. There it was, he told them, 
in the presence of the Divine Victim of propitia- 
tion, that he would daily give them a meeting — 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 815 

recommending themselves, and their temporal 
and eternal interests to Him whoso adorable 
Heart is the common centre where all faithful 
hearts may meet ; and thus, too, ho desired to 
be most frequently remembered by them, when 
they knelt before the altar of the same holy 
faith, however distant from their old parish 
church, pleading for themselves and for all they 
held dear, well he knew that he would not be 
forgotten. 

Having thus soothed and elevated the painful 
feelings of his departing children, Father Dillon 
proceeded to read a letter which ho had received 
several days previously, but had kept in reserve, 
to dissipate, in a measure, the gloom of this 
hour. It was from Mr. Gillman, the worthy cu- 
rate who had been so unceremoniously dismissed 
by the Lord Bishop, on account of his liberal 
sentiments. Ho had since then resided in Eng- 
land where he had unexpectedly been promoted 
to a good living and had already sent a testi- 
monial of his sympathy for the evicted tenants 
of Bartrymore. His present letter contained 
another donation, and what was far more wel- 
come, the intelligence that he had become a 
Catholic, as had also his wife’s sister, Clara 
Hudson, and the gentleman whom she had lately 


316 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

married, a distinguished officer of the British 
IN’avy. 

My good wife still keeps on in the old track/’ 
wrote the ex-curate, ^^and is pleased now and 
then to give it as her firm conviction that the 
three important individuals above mentioned 
have certainly been bewitched — else they could 
never have deserted the dear and venerable 
Church of England. But when she threatens to 
grow too warm on this theme, I take care to 
supply a counter-irritant by an allusion to Lord 
Woolcut, which quickly turns her indignation 
to that quarter. Then we find ourselves carried 
back in fancy, to the days spent in Bartrymore ; 
happy days, of which we would not have one 
unpleasant recollection, but for his Lordship’s 
bigotry. And Emily contrasts that disagreeable 
characteristic, his cold manner, &c., &c., — (you 
remember how she can run on when she gets 
this subject started?) — with the very opposite 
qualities which so greatly surprised her in a cer- 
tain reverend representative of another creed- 
She has pleasant recollections, too, of hours passed 
in the society of Mrs. Brown and Miss Lynch, 
whom she really believes to be good and sincere 
Christians — Catholics though they are. But, alack ! 
an unwelcome thought interrupts her eulogy, 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 317 

for we have recently learned that Miss Lynch 
has become. a Sister of Mercy; and Emily cher- 
ishes the utmost repugnance to all religious 
communities, and has no patience with the 
Church for sanctioning such institutions. Yet I 
do not despair of her conversion, and what a 
strict, out-and-out convert she will be ! For this 
eagerly desired blessing, I trust to your holy 
prayers, my dear Father, and I know that your 
zealous congregation will not refuse to breathe 
an occasional petition on her behalf to Him 
whom they are trying to serve in a spirit worthy 
of the early days of the Church. To you and to 
them, under God, I feel that I shall owe her con- 
version, as I undoubtedly do my own, since 
those memorable evictions first directed my at- 
tention to the subject; and when, though con- 
vinced of the truth of the Catholic religion, 
human respect and motives of interest would 
have held my soul in thrall, the thought of your 
faithful people, their courageous abandonment 
of everything at the call of duty, rebuked my 
weakness, and spurred me on to make the sac- 
rifice faith required — a sacrafice how small com- 
pared with that which they have laid on the 
altar of God.^^ 

Well had Father Dillon judged of the effect 


318 THE CONFESSORS OF CONNAUGHT; 

this letter would have on that little assemblage. 
Drooping heads were raised, tearful eyes glistened 
with pleasure as he read; and there was an 
exultant tone in the voices that uttered the va- 
rious thoughts to which it gave rise. Praise, 
honor, and glory be to God for alibis goodness V 
Oh, He will bring her around in His own good 
time No fear of her — sure, she had the 
good heart and the open hand for the poor, 
without asking their country or creed, and isn't 
it to such the blessing is promised 

And as the little group again took up their 
line of march, their sorrows were almost forgot- 
ten in the enthusiasm of their feelings, and they 
beguiled the way by recalling pleasant recollec- 
tions of the amiable family who had once inhab- 
ited the parsonage.'' 

Let us part with them now, while the light 
caught from the fervor and generosity of their 
natures, shines upon their gloomy pathway. 
They are going to their new homes! Let us 
hope that they may there enjoy the realization 
of their humble desires; that their future lot 
may be exempt from the bitter trials that have 
m arked their pat ; above all, that they may live 
to see the time when their country, freed from 
the iron rule of the stranger, will assume among 


OR, THE TENANTS OF A LORD BISHOP. 319 

the nations of the earth the separate and equal 
station to which the laws of nature and of na- 
ture's God entitle'' her. Then, never till then, 
will an era of ^‘prosperity" dawn on Irelard. 
That day may be far distant, yet she never 
loses faith that it will come. Impoverished, 
persecuted and oppressed, as no other land has 
ever .been — ‘‘confiscated," “subjugated," but 
never conquered — breaking forth ever and again 
from the tomb in wdiich her enemies fondly 
dreamed they had laid her forever, the old land — 
proud mother of heroes and martyrs, of saints 
and sages — still looks with unwavering confi- 
dence to Him whom she has long served in 
humility and patience, for the time of her exult- 
ation ; the time when “free, sovereign and 
independent," she will give to the faithless 
nations as glorious an example of virtue and 
faithfulness in prosperity, as she has given dur- 
ing her long night of sorrow and gloom. 

Yes, that day will dawn on Erin — the day when ruthless foes 
Will cease to drain her life-blood, while mocking at her woes ; 

When from her every hill-top the signal fires will gleam, 

And rouse her waiting children to battle for “ the Green !” 

Oh ! to see that glorious Sunburst once more flung to the sky. 

O’er Ireland’s sons, in serried ranks, resolved “ to do or die” — 

Oh ! to see the Saxon’s blood-stained flag t«rn down in freedom’s fight— 
Worth living for— worth toiling for— worth dying for— that sight! 













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